


and i didn't like the ending

by readdyfreddie



Category: Little Women (2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity, Mutual Pining, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readdyfreddie/pseuds/readdyfreddie
Summary: As soon as the post box came into view, she saw him there, reading the letter. And then, as if sensing her presence, he looked up, and Jo knew nothing would ever be the same again.
Relationships: Theodore Laurence & Josephine March, Theodore Laurence/Josephine March
Comments: 394
Kudos: 319





	1. you never gave a warning sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jo and Laurie are definitely my favorite ship (Greta's version, that is), and I've thought about writing a fic about them for months. I specifically wanted to write about Laurie finding Jo's letter, but I was never really sure how to go about it. But this morning, I read arbitrarily's "but tell it slant" fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21980557), which also addressed the same scenario. The fic is absolutely beautiful and says everything that needs to be said, but it also inspired me to go about doing my own take on it. So, if you haven't, absolutely go read that fic, it's amazing. 
> 
> P.S. No proofreading or anything, we die like men. Also, if you're a hardcore Amy/Laurie stan, I don't recommend reading this fic. Amy/Laurie is not my cup of tea, and while later chapters from Laurie's POV will flesh out Amy's character a bit more, this fic is not about them. Nor is it about Jo and Friedrich. It's about Jo and Laurie. 
> 
> P.P.S. Yes, these chapters are gonna be titled after Taylor Swift's song Exile, because I swear to jesus, that song literally is about Jo and Laurie.

As good a writer as Jo March was, she had never been awfully good at expressing herself when it came to her own feelings. At least in the case of one Theodore Laurence. The boy had an annoying habit of catching her off guard with his own sincerity, rendering her short of a response. Perhaps, had she been more eloquent, Laurie would not have run off to Europe, abandoning Jo in the process. Not that she could particularly blame him. She had not exactly given him reason to stay.

It had taken Jo a while to come to terms with her feelings. For someone as prideful as Jo, admitting any kind of mistake was no easy task. After her talk with Marmee, Jo had barricaded herself in the attic once more, and, as if on a whim, produced a paper and began to write, the words coming before she could even think about them. Despite Marmee's insistence that what Jo felt for Laurie was perhaps not love at all, she was not so sure anymore. 

_“My dear Teddy,_

_I miss you more than I can express. I used to think the worst fate was to be a wife. I was young and stupid. Now, I have changed. The worst fate is to live my life without you in it. I was wrong to turn you down and run away to New York.”_

As she stared at her words, Jo couldn’t help but think of how rushed and unfinished the letter seemed. Her thoughts scattered, her intent unclear. But it was the truth. She knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wanted Laurie in her life more than she wanted to remain a spinster. And if she were to ever marry, who better than the best friend she’d ever had? It was not a proper love confession, and not one the boy would surely want. But it was the best that Jo could give him as of now. She had never been good at love. Perhaps she never would be. But she wanted to try, with Laurie. 

With hope in her heart, she set out into the forest and placed the letter in their postbox. Now, all she’d have to do was wait.

* * *

“ _Teddy!_ ” Even Jo herself was overwhelmed with the surge of emotion as she clung to her childhood best friend, fighting back tears. For that brief moment, all of her worries and anxieties were gone. Laurie was back, and now there would be time to rectify everything. 

She smiled to herself as she heard Laurie’s chuckle against her ear, and instinctively held him even closer. He was back. Everything was going to be alright now. 

“I take it you’re glad to see me, then?” he spoke, his voice soft against her ear. She could practically hear the smile in his voice, and was immediately taken back to the many times the two had embraced in the past. The last time had been at Meg and John’s wedding, a few days before the fateful proposal. Knowing what she knew now, she would go back and change it all.

“Beyond,” Jo murmured. She took a breath, deciding that she was not going to initiate it if he was not. She was quite sure he had not even seen the letter yet. It could wait. They had all the time in the world. 

“Good. I was worried,” Laurie whispered, his arms wrapping around her just a bit tighter. The two stayed like that for a few seconds, neither one moving an inch, utterly comfortable in each other’s presence. But finally, Jo pulled back, eager to see his face. The face of the man she had rejected what felt like forever ago.

They laughed. It was an awkward laugh, but it was a start. Jo noted that Laurie looked a bit more put-together than before. His suit looked tailored and proper, and his hair, though with a mind of its own, lacked its usual curl that Jo had come to love so much. 

“Let’s sit,” Jo sat back down on the couch that she had previously been asleep on, and laughed once more as her friend plopped down next to her. He looked nervous. Perhaps he had seen the letter after all? 

When Laurie said nothing, Jo found it in herself to resume the conversation, her heart hammering in her chest. “How’s- How’s Amy? Did she bother you the entire way back?” She did not care about whether Amy had bothered Laurie on the way back to Europe. She did not care one bit. This was just small talk, something she had never had to resort to with Laurie before. 

“Yes, but I like that,” something about Laurie’s words struck Jo, but she brushed it aside. 

“She didn’t come straight home?”

“She’s at Meg’s,” Laurie explained, avoiding her eyes. Why was he avoiding her gaze? Was he ashamed, still, after all this time? Suddenly all of the warmth Jo had felt during their embrace was completely gone. “We stopped on the way. There’s no getting my wife out of their clutches.”

 _Wife_. The word caused Jo’s entire world to stop spinning for a moment. Surely, she had misheard. She had to have misheard. There was no way this was happening. She looked at Laurie, but found her voice barely above a whisper: “Your _what_?”

“Oh, I’ve done it now. It was meant to be... “, Laurie met her gaze, but only for a second before he leapt up, as if stung. “A surprise.” 

Jo stared at him, desperate for the man to rectify his slip of the tongue. Surely he had not meant that Amy was his wife. It was impossible. Her mind was racing a million miles a second, trying to make sense of the situation. 

“We… you know, we were hoping to wait, but”, Laurie laughed softly, but his smile did not reach his eyes. He still could not meet Jo’s gaze, as if afraid of what he’d find there. “But now we are man and wife.”

“ _No_ -”, Jo stopped herself. She needed to stop herself. She sat up straight, balling her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. No. She had already spoiled things between them once. She would not lose his friendship, too. “You and… Amy?” The idea sounded so strange, so… _wrong._

Laurie finally looked at her, and smiled. He looked content. He had come to terms with his decision. Suddenly everything about his appearance made sense. The suit, the nice hair. Amy would make sure her husband always looked prim and proper. 

“It all happened… fast,” Laurie said, and he had the decency to look a bit bashful as he sat back down, but this time, he sat opposite her, on the trunk situated next to the couch. He was keeping his distance. The familiarity between them was gone.

Jo looked away, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. She felt hollow, as if she was watching an accident in slow motion, unable to do anything to stop it. “Oh.”

She felt Laurie’s hand grasp hers, and turned back. As soon as their eyes met, Laurie let go, as if stung. “Jo, I just want to say one thing and we’ll put it away forever.” 

“No need, Teddy, really-”

“I’ve always loved you,” Laurie said, and something about the way he said it made Jo want to cry. She avoided his gaze still, no matter how hard he was trying to make eye contact. She stared a bit to his left, her ears ringing. “But the love I feel for Amy, it’s different.”

Jo wanted to scream. She did not need to hear this. She did not deserve this. 

Or maybe she did. She had, after all, turned him down after such an earnest proposal. She had had her chance, and she’d let him go. 

“I think you were right about this, I think we would have killed each other,” the way Laurie said it, the fast pace, the nervous shake in his voice, it all told her that he did not quite mean it. But what did it matter if he meant it or not? It was done. 

Jo realized that he was waiting for a response. She finally met his gaze, praying that her eyes were not glossed with unshed tears. She would not cry for him. “Yes.” 

“I think… it was meant this way,” Laurie smiled, and Jo resisted the urge to scream. Why was he doing this to her? Did he truly think she did not care? He must have, or he would not have said such ridiculous things. 

“Oh, Teddy,” Jo sighed, burying her head in her hands for a brief second, brushing away the tears that were threatening to fall down her cheeks. He would not see her cry. She would put up a front. And everything would go back to the way it had been before. 

“You know… you’re the only one who ever calls me that,” Laurie smiled gently, his eyes filled with adoration. And Jo _loved_ him. She did. Perhaps she always had. Why had she not seen it? What was this cruel twist of fate? 

“Mm..,” Jo shrugged. “What does Amy call you?” She did not want to know, why was she asking?

“My lord,” Laurie looked a bit bashful. Jo watched him, her expression blank. He did look like a lord. But had he ever wanted to be one? Where was the adventurous, free-spirited Teddy that she had spent her adolescent years causing mischief with? Had he truly matured, or had someone twisted his hand in making him thus?

“That sounds like her,” was all she said. 

Laurie looked at her, a knowing smile. He knew she was making fun of Amy. He knew her so well. He always had. But she did not feel like she knew him anymore. Who was this man, and where was Teddy? 

“You look deserving of it, though, however ridiculous the title,” Jo quickly added. She did not want to appear unkind. It was what Amy was expecting of her. 

“Jo…”, Laurie whispered. For a moment, Jo thought that he might say something more, something meaningful. And instead he asked: “Can we still be friends, please?”

Jo did not know if it was possible. Perhaps, if she truly felt nothing for Laurie, it could be done. But could two people who harbored such romantic feelings for each other truly ever be friends? Despite her inner turmoil, she said what he wanted to hear: “Of course, my boy. Always.” She took his hands in hers, squeezing them gently. Teddy was gone, and only Laurie remained. Jo would have to come to terms with that.

“The others must have arrived by now,” Laurie broke the silence after a few seconds, removing his hands from under Jo’s, standing up and straightening his fine, lilac suit jacket. “Shall we go down?”

Jo knew she looked a mess. She had no desire to see Amy, none whatsoever. She had no desire to hear her excuses, or worse, see her be as smug as ever, gloating in her victory. 

Despite the dread, she followed the man down, each step harder and harder to take. And then, as they reached their destination, Jo stopped. She stood in the doorway, watching with sick fascination as Laurie walked over to where Amy was standing, grouped up around their family. And she watched Laurie kiss his wife’s cheek, and wrap an arm around her. It felt so strange, Jo almost wanted to laugh. 

And then Amy turned around, and had the audacity to look ashamed. Jo’s eyes met hers, and it took everything the older girl had in her to remain calm. She would not resort to her childish ways. She would let go of her own desires and be happy for her sister. It was what Beth would have wanted.

“Laurie told you, then?” Amy had walked closer, and indeed, looked as if she was afraid Jo was about to strike him. Something about it amused Jo, in a way. As far as Amy knew, Jo had no feelings for Laurie. Why was she so afraid of her reaction? 

“Yes,” Jo smiled. They both knew the smile was fake, but it was all she could muster. “It’s.. I’m very happy for you. This was meant to be.” She echoed Laurie’s words, unable to come up with any of her own. And she watched as her sister sighed in relief, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“I’m so relieved,” Amy spoke. “I wanted to write, but everything was happening so fast, and I was afraid you’d be angry at me.” 

“No.” She was not angry. She was simply… done. She had nothing left to give, no anger, no violence. Nothing. 

“No, you’re not angry at me?”

“Life’s too short to be angry at one’s sister,” Jo spoke, knowing it was something their dear Beth would have said. She desperately wanted to be good. To be able to love and forgive as easily as Beth had done. But as Amy looked at her, tears in her eyes, Jo did not feel a calmness Beth surely would have felt. Deep down, she wanted to kick and scream. 

“I really miss her,” Amy spoke, and without responding, Jo pulled her in for a hug, unable to say or do anything else. Everything was still far too fresh, and she could not think. She could not think with everyone looking at her, silently pitying her. Except Laurie, of course, who thought this was all for the best. 

Jo met Marmee’s gaze and saw the pity in them. That was too much for her. Marmee, who had been privy to Jo’s personal confession, now knew she had lost her chance at happiness. 

She pulled away from Amy, watching as the blonde turned around, clearly looking for her husband. “Where did Laurie go?”

“He said he was stepping out for a moment,” Meg said.

And that was when Jo remembered the letter. “I…”, she stepped towards the door, but noticed that no one was paying attention to her, anyway. The spectacle was over. So, without a word, Jo rushed out, determined to retrieve the letter before it could do any more damage.

She ran across the yard into the forest, her heart hammering in her chest. She had to destroy it. Laurie could not see it, and pity her all the more for it. 

But as it had been for Jo recently, luck was not on her side. As soon as the post box came into view, she saw him there, reading the letter. And then, as if sensing her presence, he looked up, and Jo knew nothing would ever be the same again.

She took the last few steps to reach him, and tried her best to keep her dignity. She would not say it. She would not embarrass herself further.

“What is this?” Laurie whispered, his voice breaking as he held the letter in his hand. He looked almost accusatory. 

“Nothing,” Jo tried to grab the letter from his hands, but Laurie retreated just enough to keep it out of her reach. 

“It is not _nothing_ , it is a letter from you. To me,” Laurie said, his voice cold. “Did you write this? Is this some kind of practical joke?”

“What kind of a practical joke would this be, exactly?” Jo snapped, leaning closer and grabbing the letter, clutching it in her hands as if she could retroactively stop him from reading it. 

“So, you meant what you said?”

“It doesn’t matter! _I didn’t know_!” 

“Know what?!” Laurie snapped back, and Jo resisted the urge to laugh. He was the one who had married her sister. He was the one who had sealed his fate. 

“That you had gone and married _Amy_ ,” Jo did not mean for her words to sound as poisonous as they did, but she could not take them back once they left her mouth. Laurie looked like he had been slapped.

“Do not put this on me, Jo. You rejected me.”

He was not wrong. She had rejected him. She had told him that she did not love him. She had told him that she would never marry. He had had no reason to wait for her. And yet… If he had, everything could have been different.

“I know. I would never have written this, knowing what I know now,” Jo said. Now it was her turn to look away in shame. “I didn’t know.” 

Laurie stood there helplessly, trying to find the words. Whatever it was that he was trying to say, Jo wished that he would not. There was nothing to say or do. He would simply have to go back to his wife, and Jo would have to come to terms with her mistakes. 

“I thought that you didn’t…,” he whispered, his voice so small. 

“I was wrong.”

The two finally looked at each other, and they knew there was nothing to be done. Laurie could not undo his marriage, and Jo could not undo her initial rejection. 

“In all those letters that you wrote to me while I was in Europe…”, Laurie continued, though he looked ready to collapse. “...you never once said anything.”

“Would it have mattered if I had? You did not answer a single letter.”

“I _would have_ , if you…”, Laurie cursed under his breath, taking Jo by surprise. She had never heard him swear before. “Damn you, Jo. _Damn you_.”

Jo glared at him, her anger getting the better of her, as it had always done in her youth. “What does it matter to you anyway? You’re happily married, by your own words. You’re in love!”

“ _Jo_!” Laurie shouted, running a hand through his hair, looking even more heartbroken than he had on that day. “I’ve always…,” he paused. Jo was glad that he did. She did not want to hear it. “...always…”

“You should go back inside,” Jo said, turning away. There was nothing more to be said. “Your wife was looking for you." 

“Don’t do this to me, Jo”, Laurie sounded desperate, but Jo still did not turn. For as desperate as he must have been, she was even more so. The cruel irony of everything that had transpired was getting to her, and she did not have it in her to listen to one more word. 

“I’m not doing anything. Forget about the letter,” with those words, she tore the letter in half, tossing the pieces onto the ground. “I have.” Without as much as a look back at the man she now knew she loved, she walked away, as far away as she possibly could. She ignored him calling for her name. It was too late. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on making this maybe about 10 chapters? My attention span is terribly short, and I often lose confidence in my own writing, but I will do my best. That is, if people find this interesting or think this is something worth reading. I am absolutely shit at describing things, dialogue is like the only thing I do even somewhat decently. I look forward to writing more of my original stuff, as this chapter was mostly scenes from the film. I feel kind of bad about how I've portrayed Amy so far, but honestly, it's Jo's POV, and in this moment, she's not a huge fan of Amy, and I think that's understandable. I, too, have felt deep bitterness towards my siblings, and they've never gone and married someone I had feelings for, so... 
> 
> As far as POV's are concerned, I'm planning on swapping between Jo and Laurie, with chapter 2 being from Laurie's POV.


	2. just your understudy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who commented or left kudos, it means a lot to me and keeps me very motivated to continue! I can't always promise to update at such a quick pace, but what can I say? I was inspired, and eager to write a chapter that was largely just filled with original scenes, with a few exceptions.

It was already well past midnight, but Laurie could not bring himself to move. As soon as he and his new wife had made their way to his grandfather’s home, Laurie had excused himself to the library, half-heartedly pressing the keys on the piano, in the corner, his mind completely elsewhere. 

He knew Amy was cross with him for not telling her what was wrong, for not being present whenever she tried to initiate a conversation. He could see the worry in her eyes. It was the same worry that had made her suggest a rushed wedding in Europe, rather than a properly planned one back in Concord. Laurie knew that she was afraid that he was still in love with Jo.

And he was. He always would be.

With a heavy sigh, Laurie reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the two pieces of paper that had been Jo’s letter to him. After she had rushed off, he had picked them up, unable to discard them. How could he, when this was the only proof he had that the love of his life felt the same for him? Even if it was too late, the very existence of the letter made it a bit easier for him to breathe. Easier, but also more difficult at the same time.

As he read through the letter again and again, he tried convincing himself that she did not love him. After all, she had said no such thing. She had made no indication of wanting him to propose again. He could, if he wanted, to see the letter as nothing more than a friend’s desperate attempt to keep him close. But the look on Jo’s face when he’d told her of his marriage, that could not be brushed off, no matter how much his anxiety-fueled brain tried to. 

To what extent Jo’s feelings for him reached, he did not know. But they were there. Josephine March had feelings for him. It was what he had wanted all this time, and would have been perfectly capable of reciprocating even a month prior. But now, he was married to Amy. 

Laurie had always been somewhat aware of Amy’s feelings for him. The girl had never made them to be much of a secret, after all. And somewhere along the lines, during his grief-stricken state in Europe, he had convinced himself that he loved her, too. She was lovely, intelligent, and kept him on his toes. But he had always known that she was not the love of his life. She had said as much during his initial attempt at propositioning the girl. She had expressed her worries about playing second fiddle to Jo. And to his credit, Laurie had never lied and denied it. And not a word about Jo was spoken since. 

“Laurie?” He resisted the urge to pocket the letter as soon as he heard Amy’s voice. That would only make her suspicious. Instead, he placed his hand over the pieces, which were sitting on top of the piano. Laurie turned around to look at Amy, who looked ready for bed.

“Yes?” 

“When are you coming to bed? It’s so late,” Amy stood in the doorway, looking far more unsure of herself than she had at the house earlier. She had no doubt wanted to put up a front for Jo. Even Laurie had, to an extent. He had wanted to come back a changed man, a happy man, to make sure his friend felt the least possible amount of guilt about what had transpired between them. But now that he knew Jo returned his feelings, his behavior felt more cruel than considerate. 

“Soon,” Laurie turned back to the piano. “I’m not tired just yet.”

A silence fell between them, and they both knew what it was about. Amy was not stupid. She knew. But as Laurie expected, she did not bring it up. Much like how Laurie had not brought his own feelings up with Jo for such a long time. He had been afraid of what kind of response he’d get.

“Alright,” with that, his wife disappeared, no doubt heading back upstairs. Laurie stood still for a while, before turning his gaze to the window. And there it was, a light in the attic of the March house. The light that he had always looked for, every night he’d happened to pass by a window. A light that meant that Jo March was awake, and working away on one of her stories. Despite himself, and despite everything that had transpired, Laurie smiled. How could he not? It was Jo.

* * *

A few days passed, and Laurie kept his distance. Not only for Jo’s sake, but also his own. He did not know how he would even speak to her, knowing what he did now. The two never fought, not _really_ , but they had both been so angry that day in the forest. Laurie was still angry. And he knew he was not doing a good job of hiding it.

He mostly snapped at his grandfather, who really did nothing wrong besides dare to speak to Laurie at a moment that was inconvenient for the young man. Amy even pointed this out to him, though Laurie quickly dismissed her concerns.

Try as he might, Laurie could not stay away from Jo for too long. When Amy mentioned to him that Jo had inherited Aunt March’s house, he knew he needed to see how she was doing. Laurie knew about Jo’s complicated relationship with her aunt, and he wanted to be there for her. He had always pushed his own feelings aside to make sure his best friend was alright, and that was what he had to do now, too.

He found Jo at what was now her house, for all intents and purposes. As he stepped inside the deserted mansion, his eyes immediately fell on Jo, who was circling around the room, seemingly deep in thought. Laurie cleared his throat, not wanting to be caught staring. 

Jo looked up, and for a brief moment, looked happy to see him. For a split second, she looked like she always did when he used to surprise her. But then, she seemed to remember the reality of the situation, and straightened her posture, crossing her arms. Laurie chuckled bitterly, remaining far enough away to not make her uncomfortable. 

“I heard about the house,” he said. “I wanted to see how you were.”

Jo’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, but she did not move closer. “I was surprised. I thought she hated me,” she admitted.

“I’m sure she loved you, in her own way,” Laurie met her gaze and smiled softly. How could someone not love her? As infuriating and stubborn as she was, Jo March was the most remarkable person Laurie had ever met.

“You did not come earlier with Amy,” Jo spoke, catching Laurie off guard with the topic of Amy. But he went along with it.

“No.”

“Nor have you been at the house.”

“No,” Laurie wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“So, I suppose your suggestion of us being friends was just a lie, then?” there was that same aggression in Jo’s voice that had been there during their last interaction. Laurie was taken aback. He felt that, if anyone, he had a right to be upset. Jo had months and months to express her feelings, and she never did. This was not on him.

Or, that was what he kept telling himself.

“Jo,” Laurie took a few steps closer, noting that Jo was not moving away. It was a good sign, at least. However angry she was, she was not yet ready to bite his head off. Progress. “It was not a lie.”

“Forgive me for my assumption, Teddy, but you avoiding me does not sound like the most friendly thing to do.”

Laurie was starting to lose his temper. He was not the villain here. “I’m sorry, Jo, did I miss a moment when you showed up at my grandfather’s house, looking for me?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“No.”

“And why not?”

“ _You know why_ ,” something about the way Jo said it reminded Laurie of his own words to Amy, not too long ago. Why had he said anything? If he had kept his thoughts to himself, if he had not allowed his loneliness to send him into Amy’s arms, everything could be different now.

“Because Amy’s there?” 

“Because you _and_ Amy are there. Together,” Jo shrugged, leaning against the wall. “It’s too odd.”

Laurie scoffed. He turned back, about to walk away. And then, he glanced back at her, at the infuriating woman he loved beyond all reason, and spoke: “You know what is odd to _me_?”

“What?” there was that accusatory tone in Jo’s voice once more.

“You writing me a letter, confessing your deep feelings after turning me down in the most cold, callous way you possibly could have.” Laurie knew he was exaggerating. Even at the time, he had known that Jo felt misery over having to reject him. But his hurt did not give way to reason. It rarely did. “You told me! You told me that you could never say yes to me. You told me that you did not love me.”

Jo opened her mouth to speak, but Laurie continued, stepping closer as he did:

“You gave me no reason whatsoever to believe that you felt anything. You broke my heart, Jo,” he felt bad for saying it as soon as the words left his lips, as he could see the toll they were taking on Jo. But it had to be said. “And _now_ , you fault me for moving on.”

Jo looked away, biting her bottom lip. The tension between them was growing, and it was becoming unbearable. 

“If you had asked me to wait, I would have waited,” Laurie continued, his tone calmer, but his words no less potent. “You did not tell me maybe, or later. You said _no_. I took your words for what they were. And now, you blame me.”

The girl moved away, circling around him, fiddling with her hands to avoid his gaze as she made her way to the door. “I should be on my way. I promised I would help Marmee with dinner.”

Laurie was not the least bit surprised. Jo did always prefer to run away from her feelings than confront them. Instead of arguing, he decided to be the bigger man and change the subject: “You’re working on a piece of writing, aren’t you?”

Jo looked back at him, her guard lowered once more. “How did you know?”

“The light, up in the attic,” Laurie replied, barely more than a whisper.

Jo just smiled. “You and Amy should join us for dinner tonight.”

Laurie’s knee-jerk reaction was to refuse, but Jo continued before he could do so:

“She will grow suspicious if you do not.”

Laurie could hardly argue with that, so, he merely nodded, watching Jo walk away from her once more. As he stood in the house, he was left to wonder whether any of his words had even reached the stubborn girl. And even if they had, did they matter?

* * *

Laurie had never considered himself to be a very jealous man. He knew his worth, and he had no illusions about his relationships. And yet, watching Jo interact with the man called Friedrich Bhaer was slowly eating him alive. 

Amy, Laurie and his grandfather had shown up to the March house to find this new man standing in the doorway, and to Laurie’s disgust, no one could take their eyes off of him. Jo included. It had taken multiple attempts, but Laurie had finally found out that the man was an acquaintance of Jo’s from New York. The revelation had not eased Laurie’s mind whatsoever, as several scenarios started forming in his head. He and Jo must have had so much in common. Perhaps they were already an item. Perhaps Jo’s letter to Laurie had just been a back-up plan, and this Mr. Bhaer was the man she truly wanted to be with. 

All of these anxieties made it impossible for Laurie to focus on dinner, so he spent the entire evening simply sitting quietly, occasionally answering questions either Amy or Marmee threw his way. Jo, on the other hand, avoided his stare the entire night, focusing on Friedrich or her family. It infuriated Laurie, even though he knew he had no right to be furious. He was a married man, and Jo was free to do as she pleased. But was the girl truly so fickle that she would now cast aside her feelings for Laurie in favor of this complete and utter bore of a man?

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Laurie knew he was being biased, but he truly did consider Friedrich Bhaer to be one of the least interesting people he’d ever met. Yes, he was handsome enough, as Hannah liked to point out, but he was stoic, quiet and very literal. He was just about the last man Laurie had ever pictured Jo ending up with. Even when he had dared himself to picture her with someone other than himself, it had never been with a man like _this._

Finally, the time came for Friedrich to say his farewells, and Laurie stayed back, watching with a certain sense of self-destruction as the man kissed Jo’s cheek before departing. But, what came after hurt Laurie perhaps even more so.

As soon as the door had closed, Jo had been met with an utter silence. Laurie looked around, wondering what exactly he had missed.

“What?” Jo spoke his thoughts into existence.

“Jo, you _love_ him!” Amy shrieked. It took everything Laurie had in him to not snort out loud. If this was Jo March in love, then he did not know his childhood best friend at all.

“No, I don’t,” Jo said, laughing nervously. She looked between everyone, who had started practically shouting in chorus, arguing with her. To everyone, it was obvious that Jo was madly in love with Friedrich, and that he had wanted her to say as much. This was as clear as day. To everyone, that is, but Jo and Laurie. 

Laurie met Jo’s gaze, and smiled knowingly. A sense of calm washed over him as he saw the look on her face. She was not in love with Friedrich. And he had a feeling that the only reason Amy was suggesting it in such aggressive terms was because his wife wanted it to be true. But wanting it did not make it so.

At Amy’s suggestion that Jo needed to rush after the man, to stop him from leaving and moving to California, Jo shook her head and walked past them. “I don’t understand why you won’t listen to me! I _don’t_ love him. I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear!” with that, she rushed off, no doubt taking the back entrance out of the house.

Amy looked at Laurie, and he only shrugged. His wife looked positively crushed. Laurie wanted to be hurt at how much she seemed to distrust him - enough to try to shove a man down her sister’s throat to keep her away from Laurie. But, truly, could he blame her? 

It took a few moments for the situation to dissolve, but one by one, everyone left the foyer, leaving Laurie standing there by the staircase. Amy had decided to go back to Meg’s with her, no doubt wanting a moment away from Laurie after the sour mood he had been in the entire day, all because of Friedrich. He had not exactly been very subtle. He wished that he could hide his feelings better, but when one felt as strongly as Laurie did, it was as difficult as trying not to breathe.

* * *

Laurie found Jo standing outside, staring out towards the forest. It was raining, but she did not seem to care. He walked over with some hesitance, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around the girl’s shoulders, making her jump ever so slightly at the contact.

“Teddy,” Jo chuckled, but tugged the fabric closer to her nonetheless. “What difference do you think another piece of wet cloth is going to make?”

Laurie just smiled, standing by her side, looking at the drenched scenery. He wondered how best to go about expressing how very grateful and relieved he felt that Jo had not returned Bhaer’s feelings. How to be eloquent about such a nasty subject?

“So, not him, then?” he finally spoke, not sure if she could even hear him due to the rain.

Jo glanced at him, but Laurie kept his eyes on the horizon, perhaps too afraid to meet her icy blue eyes. “Not him,” she agreed. “It never has been.” 

“He seemed a fine enough fellow, I suppose,” Laurie shrugged. “Intelligent, with a fondness for books.”

“And that is all that you think I want in life, then, Teddy? An intelligent man who loves books?”

“I do not think you want anyone at all, to be quite honest with you, Jo,” he laughed softly, finally glancing at her. With her rain-drenched hair, and the clothes clinging to her figure… she looked more beautiful than she ever had before. It was a special kind of torture, to be around her, knowing what he knew, and being unable to do anything about it.

“You’re wrong,” was her response, but Laurie had turned away once more. He would not look at her now, because if he did, he would not be able to resist the urge to kiss her. She was toying with his heart, this time absolutely knowingly. 

He felt her fingers brush against his hand, and glanced down, noticing that she was looking at the ring on his middle finger. The one he had given to her. The ring that had once rested on his wedding finger, but had since been replaced by his actual wedding ring. “You still wear it.”

“You gave it to me, Jo. How could I not?” 

Without warning, Jo grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him in for a hug, clinging onto him tighter than she ever had before. Laurie held her back, his arms wrapping around her upper back, feeling her shiver against his body because of the coldness. 

He heard her cry, and his heart broke a little bit. He did not know why she was crying, but he did not have the courage to ask. He only held her closer, the two clinging to each other until, finally, it became too cold to stay outside. The old friends parted way at the door, Laurie making his way back home, while Jo retreated to her attic. Nothing was resolved, but at least Jo was not engaged. With that selfish thought, Laurie could sleep a bit easier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a little bit childish, with how I wrote Friedrich. I honestly think he's such an incredibly boring character, but a good writer would not let that get in the way of their writing. Oh, well, I never claimed to be a good writer. And anyway, my dislike of Amy and Friedrich is entirely due to my own personal preferences. Everyone has their own, and mine are no more correct than anyone else's. 
> 
> Again, thank you for the feedback I've gotten so far. I'm such a slut for validation, so I really do appreciate it, especially the comments. I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter as well!


	3. what am i defending now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all the feedback, I really appreciate it! Also, I should've said this for chapter 1, but I forgot. I'm sorry my use of language is not period-accurate. I'm no expert in 19th century English, and prefer to just write what kind of dialogue I see as fitting for each scene. I try never to make it too modern, but yes, I am aware that it's not accurate, either.

Had she been asked, Jo would never have classified Amy as the observant type. She still remembered her sister as the loudmouth, foul-tempered, selfish little girl she had been in their childhood years. Of course, she loved Amy, she was her sister, after all. But the two had always clashed, and were destined to do so for the rest of their lives. Not all temperaments mixed, and Jo had come to terms with that.

But the Amy that had come back from Europe was not the same as the one who had left her. Much like Laurie, Amy had matured into a new version of herself, a version Jo was not sure she recognized at all. This Amy was more quiet, more introspective, more prone to speaking out about things Jo had never expected her little sister to take an interest in. Literature, politics, and the practicality of marriage.

Nothing had made this more clear for Jo than when her sister had joined her in the attic, interrupting the writer hard at work. Jo had intentionally been keeping her distance from Amy, and had not been hoping to stop anytime soon. Especially after the stunt she’d pulled with Friedrich. 

“Jo, may I speak to you?” Amy took a seat on the sofa, clearly expecting Jo to join her, but the older sister remained where she was, hunched over her writing desk.

“Make it quick, I’m in the middle of an important scene,” Jo lied. She had not actually managed to scribble down a coherent sentence for the past few hours. But anything to avoid Amy’s company…

“I’m sorry if I offended you, the other day,” Amy surprised Jo, and the girl actually turned around, frowning. Usually, Amy’s arm had to be twisted to make her willing to apologize for anything. 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“With the gentleman who came by. Friedrich,” Amy explained. “I suppose I shouldn’t have pushed you the way I did.”

Jo sighed. She didn’t want to talk about her love life, and if she did, Amy would be the very last person she’d want to have that conversation with. “You misunderstood. In the future, I would prefer if you kept your nose out of my affairs.”

Perhaps she was being too harsh, but Amy of all people should know that pushing Jo was not the wisest thing to do. Especially when it came to matters of the heart.

“I thought that you cared for him.”

“You claimed that I  _ loved _ him”, Jo turned around fully, shrugging. “Where did that come from?”

“I told you! I  _ thought _ that you did.”

Jo turned back around. “You don’t know the first thing about what I feel.”

“Don’t I?” something about the way Amy spoke made Jo pause. Had she given herself away, somehow? Had Laurie said something? Surely Amy did not know about the letter.

“If there’s something you wish to say to me, then say it,” Jo said, her eyes still on her empty page. “You’ve never been one to mince words.”

“Fine,” Amy sighed. She stood up, joining Jo by her desk, looking surprisingly nervous. “I think you _ are _ angry at me.”

“I told you, it’s fine, you misunderstood-”

“Not for Friedrich!” Amy snapped. “For Laurie.”

Jo shook her head, suddenly feeling the intense need to leave the room. “I told you, I wasn’t angry at you.”

“You were lying. Jo, I swear, when Laurie and I… I didn’t know. I thought that you did not care for him. I truly did,” Amy said, speaking in that fast, rambly pace of hers that she used whenever she was nervous beyond belief. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Amy,” Jo closed her eyes. “Stop it. I don’t want to speak on this.”

“Well,  _ I  _ do!” Amy grabbed Jo’s papers, holding them above her head. “And you’re not going to avoid me any longer. We will talk about this!”

Jo took a breath, standing up and grabbing the papers, glaring down at her sister. “If you truly respected my feelings, you would believe me, and let me be. I know that in your own, little fantasy land, the only opinion that matters is  _ yours _ , but this is the real world, and I am entitled to my privacy.”

Amy stared, tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t want us to be like we used to be, Jo. Beth wouldn’t want us to fight.”

“I don’t _ want  _ to fight!” Jo tossed her papers to the floor, taking a breath once more, trying to remember to keep her temper. Why did Amy always manage to push her buttons like this? 

“You said that you were not angry with me,” Amy whispered, and for a moment she looked 12 once more, completely helpless when faced with her sister’s wrath. 

“You could have married anyone,” Jo finally said, her voice still shaking with anger. “ _ Anyone _ . And you chose Teddy.” She almost said  _ my  _ Teddy, but stopped herself at the last second. She could not give her true feelings away.

“I had loved him for years, Jo. Years! All the while you two were gallivanting around town, all the while he was pining after you - and you never cared! All that time, I was in love with him, waiting for him to see me for who I really was,” Amy explained, her voice shaking, too, but more out of sadness and anxiety than anger. 

“And how very convenient, don’t you think? That the one man you decided to fall in love with is the one man who ever harbored feelings for me?” Jo spat out. 

“Oh, so, you think that the only reason I ever loved Laurie is because of  _ you _ ?” Amy scoffed. “You’ve got some nerve. Laurie is wonderful in his own right, and that has nothing to do with you.”

“I know he’s wonderful. He’s  _ my  _ best friend.”

“Best friend? You two have barely talked since we came back”, Amy snapped. “I think you’re clinging onto a past that’s never going to come back.”

“And I think you’re being delusional if you think my anger is unjustified.” 

“I never said it was. I only asked you to be honest with me,” Amy said, looking and sounding defeated. “But I see that you’re still insistent on remaining a child,” she headed for the stairs, pausing. “Jo?”

“What?!” 

“You rejected him. Remember that. You had your time, and you turned him down. Don’t fault me for wanting what you did not,” with that, Amy walked down, leaving Jo in a state of pure anger.

* * *

After that, Jo began spending a surprising amount of time at Aunt March’s old house. It was a way to have some alone time, and a way to make sure she would not run into Amy or Laurie. She knew she was being childish, but she had to protect herself. Seeing Amy and Laurie together had been difficult from the moment they had returned, but somehow it had become even harder after Friedrich, and after her clash with Amy.

Jo had held a certain affection for Friedrich and the life he represented, but she had not been in love with him. Not enough to follow him into California, and certainly not enough to ask him to stay. She barely knew the man, and her affections were not ones that she gave out with ease. Contrary to what Laurie had once said, Jo was beginning to doubt whether loving someone truly was her way. Twice, she’d been offered the opportunity for what the society deemed as “happiness” for people like her, and she had turned it down both times. 

These were the thoughts that occupied Jo’s mind as she spent her days in the house, mostly sitting on the floor, or leaning against a wall. The house was still unfurnished, and as Jo still had not quite figured out what she wanted to do with the house, it would have to remain as such for a bit longer. 

Even though summer was on the way, the nights were still relatively cold, so on most nights, Jo ended up lighting the fireplace to give herself some semblance of warmth and comfort. Of course, Marmee had stopped by with blankets, food, and whatever else Jo might need, but thankfully, she had not asked why her daughter insisted on staying in the house. Jo had a feeling she already knew.

It had been five days of complete solitude for Jo when her isolation was finally broken by a soft knock on the front door. Jo was curled up on the floor, under the blankets, writing away in front of the warmth and light of the fireplace. She had no intention of moving. “Come in.” Perhaps it was just Marmee, on her way with another care package of some sort.

But instead, it was Laurie. Jo hated the way her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Ever since her discussion with Amy, she had felt even more guilty about her feelings. Amy clearly loved Laurie very much, so what was Jo to do? The only reasonable thing she could do was leave, let the two of them be happy together. But it seemed like Laurie was not letting her.

“So, you are alive,” Laurie smiled, closing the door behind him, shrugging off his coat and sitting down next to Jo, not even asking if he was allowed. The familiarity between them was there, but not in the way it had been before. Jo had never felt this tension between them before. 

“I made no attempt to hide my location. I just thought I’d be less likely to be disturbed here,” Jo explained, eyeing her friend. Something about the way the light from the fireplace was dancing around his face was making him look almost ethereal. She had always seen his beauty, but now she was unable to avoid it. Everything about him, from his sharp features to his soft, green eyes, from his dark curls to his nimble fingers, everything seemed appealing to Jo. And she felt very ashamed of it.

“Yes, but I think running across town does give the impression that you do not wish to be found,” Laurie leaned back, balancing himself on his elbows as he glanced at her. “Amy told me about the fight.”

“Oh, I’m sure that she did,” Jo muttered, putting her papers away. She couldn’t focus now, anyway. “I won’t waste my time trying to defend myself.”

“You gave her the impression that you’re jealous, you know.” 

Jo rolled her eyes, standing up. “I’m so tired, Teddy. You know how I feel. Just let me be,” she was about to walk away when Laurie grabbed her by the ankle, but not standing up himself. His touch on her leg burned, and it was the most pleasant kind of burn imaginable. 

“Don’t run away. Let’s just talk.”

It was Teddy, after all, and Jo so hated disappointing him. So, she shook her leg to get him to release her, and sat back down, wrapping the blankets around herself once more. “What?”

“You say I know how you feel...” Laurie whispered, and Jo couldn’t help but notice the way he was playing around with the very ring she had given to him years ago. “But I don’t. Not really,” he looked up and their eyes met, and suddenly words were just too heavy for Jo. She could say nothing, because nothing would be enough. Nothing would make this right. 

“Yes, you do. You read the letter.”

“Yes, the letter,” Laurie sat up properly, crossing his legs, turned towards her. Their proximity was something Jo was very much aware of, but she made no attempt to move. How could she? “Why did you write it?”

Jo sighed. “Teddy,” she shook her head. “I said everything I wanted to say in that letter.”

“It was no great admission of affection,” Laurie argued. “Perhaps you simply did not want to lose my friendship, so you convinced yourself that marrying me would not be so bad. Perhaps marrying me would simply have been the necessary evil.” 

Jo was insulted by his words, but deep down, she could not really blame him. She had worded the letter in a way that left much for interpretation. “Do I strike you as the type of person to settle, for  _ anything _ ?” 

Laurie smiled, but he did not look entirely convinced. “Oh, Jo.” 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Laurie shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he turned back to the fire. “I understand.”

“You clearly don’t, Teddy. Whatever it is that you’re cooking up in that pretty little head of yours, you better say it”, Jo snapped. She was done with misunderstandings and missed opportunities. If he wanted to talk, they would talk, and be done with it.

“Even now, you won’t say it,” Laurie simply explained. “I suppose I cannot blame you.”

“Teddy-”

“I just want to know,” Laurie interrupted. “Back then, all those years ago. You truly never loved me? What you said that say, when I proposed, that was all true?”

Jo didn’t know what would be the kinder thing to say. She knew she did not want to hurt Laurie any more than she already had, but she felt that whatever she said would only result in more pain. So, she spoke the truth: “I don’t know. You caught me off guard,” she explained. It was a weak excuse, but it was true. She still remembered the shock of it all, the dread she’d felt when she realized nothing would be the same ever again.

“I refuse to believe you never saw it, that you never knew how I felt,” Laurie argued. “You had to have known.”

“Oh, Teddy. If I did, I certainly did not expect a proposal. Nor did I want one. I was so young, so full of drive and passion.”

“And marrying me would have taken the drive and passion out of you? You’re ridiculous, Jo”, Laurie said, his voice a bit sharper. Jo once again noted how much the man had changed. The Teddy she had once known would never have snapped at her like this. “I would never have stopped you from being exactly who you wanted to be.”

“I know that,” Jo whispered. “But even so, I was not ready.” She looked at Laurie, and frowned as she saw that he looked no less miserable than he had before her lackluster explanation. She felt that with every word she said, she was only making everything worse. 

A part of her just wanted to come right out and say it: say that she was in love with Laurie, and that she wanted to be with him. But that would be selfish, and it would only cause more pain in the long run. Why was it that Jo was still the one trying to protect both of their feelings when Laurie just preferred to jump head first?

“And anyway, you said it yourself. We would have killed each other,” she tried, not even believing her words as she said them. 

“Well, Jo, I was lying when I said that.” Laurie stood up, letting out a sigh as he made his way towards the door once more. “I don’t know why I came here. My own stupidity amazes me sometimes.”

“Teddy!” Jo groaned in frustration, standing up and following him out the door and into the night. She caught up with him quickly enough, grabbing onto his arm. “What do you want me to say? What do you want?!”

“I don’t know!” Laurie snapped, pulling his arm back. Even in the dark, Jo could see the anger on his face. “I know… I know it’s pointless. I know it’s too late. But I can’t stay away from you, Jo. Try as I might, I _ can’t _ .”

Jo wanted to kiss him. For a fraction of a second, she almost did. The urge was overwhelming her unlike it ever had before, but she stopped herself. She could not ruin this. She could not cause her sister pain, no matter how much a part of her hated Amy for what she’d done.

“Maybe I ought to leave, then. Go back to New York.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Laurie whispered.

“ _ What _ do you want, then? Stop acting like a child, Teddy, and tell me!” She should not have asked, because what followed was a deafening silence, the two of them staring at each other, knowing exactly what Laurie would and could not say. 

Laurie just smiled. He would not say it. Jo knew he would not. “I only want your happiness, dear Jo. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Teddy…”, she whispered, her breath catching in her throat as Laurie leaned closer. She felt petrified as Laurie’s lips pressed against her cheek, his warmth taking over her. Without even being aware of it, Jo’s hand moved to clutch onto the front of Laurie’s waistcoat as his lips lingered against her cheek, his breath inches away from her ear.

Jo closed her eyes, knowing that if their eyes were to meet, she would finally give in and do what she’d wanted to do for so long. 

Finally, Laurie pulled back, and immediately, the warmth was gone. Jo’s hand released his waistcoat, and Jo opened her eyes. The moment was over as quickly as it had started.

“Goodnight, Jo”, Laurie whispered, pulling away and disappearing into the darkness. Jo stood there, her breath shaky. There was no doubt in her mind. She loved Theodore Laurence, and nothing was going to change that. 

* * *

After a restless night of tossing and turning, Jo was woken up by a loud noise right outside Aunt March’s house. She jumped up, paying no mind to the fact that she was still in her nightgown. She headed for the door, prepared to face the source of the noise. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Laurie attempting to lift up a very old, expensive looking writing desk.

“Teddy?” 

The man had clearly gotten tired on his way to the house, and he propped the table on the front lawn, attempting to catch his breath. 

“Jo!” he smiled, as if the previous night had not happened at all. Laurie grew more and more confusing by the day. “Did I wake you?”

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I noticed that you didn’t have anywhere to write,” Laurie explained, lifting up the desk once more, doing his very best to not look strained as he walked it over the rest of the way, stopping by the front porch. “So I brought you one of my grandfather’s. He said it was perfectly alright, he has too many of these.”

“Teddy, you didn’t have to do this,” Jo said, but she couldn’t help but smile. How could she stay mad at him when he did something as thoughtful as this? “I’m not going to be living here, you know.”

“But you are here for the time being, and you need a desk for writing,” Laurie explained. “I hope you have a chair inside”, he frowned, as if this only now occurred to him. 

Jo shook her head, smiling softly. “You could have asked anyone else to do this, Teddy. You have a house full of servants.”

“I wanted to do it myself. I wanted to apologize,” Laurie explained, his expression softer and less guarded than the night before. “I had no right to ambush you like that.”

Jo’s thoughts drifted to the way he had lingered upon kissing her cheek, and knew that this carefree attitude of Laurie’s was nothing but a facade. But perhaps it was their best shot at going back to the way they had once been. “I’m sorry, too. I was too harsh.”

Laurie extended his hand, a smile on his beautiful face. “Friends?”

As they shook hands, they both knew it was a lie. They could never be friends again. And despite this, Jo nodded: “Friends.  _ Always. _ ”

“Now, help me take this thing inside, will you?” Laurie grabbed one end of the desk, and with Jo taking the other, the two managed to get the table inside with relative ease. 

As they set it down, Laurie looked around, hands in his pockets. “What  _ are _ you going to do with this place, then?”

“I think I’m going to open a school. For girls and boys,” Jo smiled. She studied Laurie’s expression, genuinely curious as to what he thought about the idea. His opinion had always mattered to her greatly, and always would. 

“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Laurie said. “May I extend my application for a teacher’s position?” 

“You, Theodore Laurence, a teacher?” Jo snorted. “You could barely sit through your own lessons.”

“A man can change.”

“So I see,” once more, Jo thought of the Teddy of her childhood, her carefree and kind best friend. This man before him still felt so foreign to her, but perhaps the boy she had once known and loved was not so dead after all. 

“Before I go,” Laurie spoke. “Would you be so kind as to give me a tour of this place? I want to compare how prim and proper it is compared to the good, old Laurence home.”

“But of course,” Jo grabbed Laurie’s arm, leading him towards the next room. “I believe this place puts even your grandfather’s home to shame.”

“Is that so?”

The two of them spent the rest of the morning together, and for that brief, wonderful moment, everything seemed like it once had. But Jo was not fooled. As she had learned the hard way, childhood was dead and gone, and as her feelings for Laurie grew and grew, they became harder and harder to ignore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I had to work extra hard this chapter to try to keep everyone in character (to the best of my abilities). But hopefully it's okay! Any feedback would, as always, be greatly appreciated :)


	4. balancing on breaking branches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to thank everyone who's taken the time to comment on this fic! I really appreciate all kinds of feedback, and I'm just honored you guys seem to consider my work worth reading. I have said this before, and I will continue saying it with each chapter. I truly, truly appreciate it. Thank you!
> 
> Also, a reminder for people to check the tags! I get that topics like infidelity are unpleasant, but they are very much a part of fiction, and in my opinion, as long as it STAYS within the confines of the work of fiction, it's perfectly fine. I've never claimed that Jo and Laurie are perfect people in this story. I think they'd be pretty boring to write about if they were. I'm writing this because of the recent comments I've gotten. I don't really know what I should do? I'm sorry if Jo and Laurie's actions offend you, but if they do, then just don't read this. It's really as simple as this. Fanfiction is supposed to be fun, for both the reader and the writer.

The next few weeks passed by, and whatever hope Laurie had harbored at suddenly being able to forget about his feelings for Jo were swiftly crushed when she was still on his mind every moment of every day. He felt irritated, tired, and guilty for both his feelings, and his less than stellar behavior towards Amy. She was trying, but it did not matter, because the fault did not lie with her. 

“Laurie?” The man had been staring out of the window, half-heartedly hoping he’d be able to catch a glimpse of Jo. The two had made more of an effort to be friends once more, but he could tell she preferred it when he wasn’t around. As much as it hurt him, he stayed away. 

He turned to look at Amy, who was looking at him from across the dining table, clutching the knife and fork in her hands, looking significantly more tense than she had just moments before. 

“I’m sorry,” Laurie said, and he was. “I didn’t hear you.”

Amy sighed. “Marmee said that they’re planning a trip to the sea,” she said. “I think we should go.”

Laurie hesitated. There was no doubt that Jo would be there. “I don’t know, Amy.”

“It’s for Beth. She loved the sea,” Amy’s voice was a bit strained as she said the words, and once again, Laurie felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. He knew Amy blamed herself for not being there for Beth when she was sick, and that she wasn’t there to say goodbye. He couldn’t say no to this.

“ Of course, we’ll go,” he said, though deep down he considered it to be a terrible idea. The more time he spent with Jo, the harder it was to be away from her. It had never quite been this bad. But then again, in the past, she had not returned his feelings. Everything was different now.

They sat there silently for a moment, eating their food, when Amy spoke once more. “You’re still wearing it.”

Laurie looked up. “Wearing what?” Why did he feel like he was under inspection every time Amy looked at him these days? Perhaps it was his own guilt talking.

“The ring,” Amy was suddenly very fascinated with her plate of food, shifting the contents around with her knife to avoid meeting her husband’s gaze.

_ The ring.  _ Of course. Jo’s ring. Laurie had almost forgotten that Amy knew about the ring’s importance. But of course she did. She was the one who had scolded him for it.

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t know. Does it?” Amy finally looked up, and to Laurie’s shock, she looked like she was about to cry. But what could he do? He would not be made a liar, and there was nothing he could say or do to comfort Amy that would not be a lie. But surely she had known. She had known what she was getting herself into. 

He stood up, walking over to where Amy was sitting, placing a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know what to do. It had never been effortless with Amy. “Amy, I married  _ you _ .”

“Only because she would not have you,” Amy shoved his hand away, standing up. She stepped away from him, looking almost insulted at his attempt at assurance. “We both know what this is, what it’s always been. Don’t play me for a fool and pretend anything else.”

“Amy!” Laurie called after her, but she had already left the room. The conversation felt all too familiar. As Laurie stood there, he was taken back to that day in France, when he’d decided that he was going to pursue Amy. Perhaps it would have kinder to not have done so. 

* * *

The next day, Amy, Laurie, Meg, John, Demi, Daisy, Jo, as well as Mr. and Mrs. March, made their way to the sea, the very same beach they had come that day when Laurie had first introduced Amy to Fred Vaughn, and had told Jo about Mr. Brooke’s dirty little secret. And now, somehow, absolutely everything had changed.

Though the weather was getting warmer, it was still too cold for a swim. Of course, Demi and Daisy had to be told this time and time again by their frustrated mother, as the children so very much wanted to take a dip. Laurie watched them, amusement across his face. Whenever he saw Meg, John and their children, he thought about his own future, and whether he would make a good father. He was beginning to believe that he would not. He had no wisdom to pass on, and no patience or kindness. He could scarcely look at himself in the mirror, let alone fathom the thought of being responsible for another human life.

Everyone settled on the sand, taking out the foods Marmee had packed for their picnic. But Laurie’s eyes drifted towards Jo, who was standing by the water, further away from them all. Without a word, Laurie walked over. He knew that losing Beth had hurt her perhaps more than it had hurt anyone else, and he knew nothing he could say would ever make it okay. But he had to at least try.

“Being here just reminds me of her so much,” Jo spoke. She didn’t even need to turn around to know it was him. Laurie wondered if he and Amy would ever have this kind of intimacy, this bond that he and Jo shared even after all this time.

“I wish I could have been there for you,” Laurie said, and he meant it with all his heart. He would have given anything to not have been in Europe, and instead to have been by Jo’s side. Once more, guilt weighed down on him.

“Well, you were there for Amy,” Jo sounded casual enough, but Laurie could tell it was not alright. He and Jo had been there for each other throughout anything and everything, from the moment they had first become friends. And he had failed her. 

Laurie glanced down, noticing that Jo had discarded her shoes. Without a word he, too, took off his shoes, rolling up his trousers as much as he could. He walked closer, placing a hand on the small of Jo’s back. “Come on,” he whispered.

“What?” Jo turned, not realizing how close Laurie actually was. Her face almost collided with his, and she chuckled softly, her eyes still directed at the ground.

Laurie said nothing, just took Jo’s hand and led her closer to the water, hissing as he felt the cold waves beat against his legs. “Come on, now, Jo,” he laughed as he felt Jo try to pull away. “I never took you for a coward.”

This provoked Jo, as Laurie knew it would. She lunged forwards, shoving Laurie as hard as she could, almost making him lose his balance. Jo laughed, and it was music to Laurie’s ears. The two stepped further into the water, gasping as they exposed themselves more and more to the cold, merciless waves.

“Theodore Laurence, you’re a madman! This is so cold!” Jo squeaked, trying to run back to the shore when Laurie grabbed her by the waist, causing them both to go tumbling down to the water, yelping at the sudden movement.

Once they got over the shock, the two friends looked at each other, completely soaked and sitting in the knee-high water, shivering. And then, they just laughed. For even just a minute or two, they were young again, and life wasn’t so very difficult. 

Their happiness was short-lived, as only a few seconds later, they heard Meg shouting at them from the shore: “What on earth are you two doing?! You’ll catch your deaths! Get out of there!” She was trying to stop her children from joining them.

Laurie stood up first, holding out his hand for Jo. And for once, she took it. She grabbed his hand and let him help her. “We should go inside,” he said. They had rented rooms at the local inn, not wanting to make the trip back home too late in the evening.

Jo nodded, but something in her expression looked uncertain. Laurie could not exactly blame her. Something felt different now, and touching her felt inappropriate. So, he released her hand, making his way back to the shore, knowing very well that Amy was watching him from not too far away. He had known this trip would be a bad idea.

* * *

Once inside the inn, Laurie felt remorse for what he’d just done. He had simply been trying to make Jo feel better, but perhaps he had only made things worse. Not just for Jo, but for Amy, too. He did not mean to rub his affection for Jo in her face, but he couldn’t ignore his best friend when she clearly needed him. 

He was staring at himself in the mirror, noting how skinny his face looked. He had always been on the thinner side, but now, his cheeks looked so hollow, and the bags under his eyes were very noticeable. The last month had taken a toll on him, and there was no sign of any of it stopping. Was he doomed to suffer for the rest of his life, and in the process hurt those he loved the most?

He heard a knock on the door, and tore his eyes from the mirror. He was only wearing a new pair of trousers, as well as one of his loose, white blouses. It would have to do. “Jo?”

The door opened and Jo’s head poked in. She looked as uncertain as he felt. She was fully clothed, but her hair was still damp, and her skin red. “Am I disturbing you?”

“Oh, only my vanity”, Laurie gestured at the mirror before walking over to the bed, sitting down on it, not thinking much of it. He had never really spent time in Jo’s bedroom, but it didn’t strike him as particularly inappropriate. The mere existence of a bed did not have sexual connotations, no matter how much society liked to state otherwise.

Jo chuckled. She stepped into the room, and immediately Laurie noticed that she, too, had chosen not to put on her shoes. She was wearing a colorful pair of socks, green and embroidered with flowers. “The innkeeper saw us come in, she insisted we eat something, so we don’t fall ill,” she gestured at the large tray in her hands, which looked to be carrying two bowls of soup, some loaves of bread, and two large mugs of coffee. 

“That’s very kind of her,” Laurie gestured for Jo to take a seat on the bed. She hesitated, only putting down the tray. 

“I don’t know if I should.”

Laurie hesitated. He didn’t know why she was afraid to sit down, but far be it for him to dismiss her worries. “If you don’t feel comfortable…”

“No, I do, it’s just…” Amy’s name went unspoken, but they both knew.

“We’re just eating,” was all Laurie said, and all the convincing Jo seemed to need to take a seat on the other side of the bed, far enough so that she was not touching Laurie, but close enough that she could still reach the food.

They sat in silence for a bit, Laurie biting into the bread while Jo sipped her soup, shivering every now and then. Laurie ignored it, knowing that if he reached out to touch her now, it would destroy whatever sense of familiarity and comfort they had with each other. Casual touches were not what they used to be between them.

“I never thanked you, you know,” Jo spoke.

“For what?” Laurie could not think of a single thing anyone could or should thank him for.

“For being so kind to Beth. She was always so shy and quiet, but you were so gentle. She really did love you,” something about Jo’s words really touched Laurie. He had considered Beth a true friend, and missed her just as everyone else did. But in his attempt to look after Amy, he had not allowed himself a moment to think about how this made _ him _ feel. It had seemed selfish. It still seemed selfish.

“She was my friend, Jo, no need to thank me,” he said sincerely. “I was kind to her because she was kind to me. She truly was the best of us.” 

Jo nodded. There were tears in her eyes, but Laurie was quite certain that this happened whenever she thought of Beth. As much as he missed Beth, he could not even come close to imagining how Jo must have been feeling. 

“I’m happy we came here,” was all Jo said before grabbing her mug, wrapping her shaky fingers around it in a feeble attempt to warm up. Laurie watched, but did not touch. He could not. 

“Nothing I can say will make anything better,” he murmured. “But I know Beth could not have asked for a better sister than you, Jo.” He had always admired the relationship Jo had shared with her little sister. The way she had been so protective and fierce when it came to Beth. The two had been such opposites, and yet complemented each other so well.

“I hope you’re right, Teddy”, Jo sighed. “She’s the reason I’m writing, you know.”

“She is?”

“She asked me to write for her, and to keep writing even after she…,” the girl shook her head, sipping her coffee. “Anyway, that is why I’m doing it.”

“What is the story about?” 

“Us.” 

Laurie knew Jo did not mean the two of them. But still, hearing her use the word gave him pause for just a second. 

“Our little, modest life. I’ve sent in the first few chapters, but my publisher says it’s too boring.” 

“I haven’t even read it, and I disagree already,” Laurie scoffed. “You will keep writing, won’t you?”

“I will. Even if it never becomes a book, I owe it to Beth,” Jo shrugged. “You know, Friedrich told me that my work is not very good.”

For a moment, Laurie had to think of who she even meant by Friedrich. And then he remembered the stuck-up professor. “Well, I am all the more glad that you rejected him, then. What a ridiculous thing to stay.”

“There is nothing wrong with constructive criticism, Teddy,” Jo snorted. “That’s something you have never given me.”

“There is a difference between constructive criticism and being a pompous bore”, Laurie argued, meeting her gaze and smiling as she chuckled. “But, if you are so very fond of this criticism, let me read your book.”

Jo hesitated. “I don’t know, Teddy.”

“I don’t claim to be as intelligent as your dear professor, but I would still like to read it, you know.” He wasn’t going to push if she really did not wish to share it, but he hoped she would.

Jo thought about it for a moment. “Alright,” she said. “But only you. You mustn’t show it to Amy, or your grandfather, or anyone else. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Laurie smirked. He reached out his hand, and they shook hands, both with big smiles on their faces. If only being friends was as easy as this all the time. 

Once they pulled back, Laurie paused. “Wait, am I to understand that I’m also in this book, then? If it’s about your life.”

“Well, yes, can’t really be helped, can it?” Jo said, reaching out and grabbing a loaf of bread. “Did you think I would simply ignore your existence?”

“Now I  _ definitely _ need to read it,” Laurie teased. “To make sure you are not tainting my good name.”

“Oh, Teddy, I think Europe did that for you,” Jo said it as if it was nothing, but Laurie paused. How could she know about what he had been doing in Europe?

“What?” he asked.

Jo seemed to have realized what she said, as she paused, turning to face him. “I mean, Amy did write to us.”

“And what did she tell you?”

“Among other things, that you would drink yourself to oblivion, and cause scenes at prestigious events,” Jo shrugged. “I assumed you were simply having fun.”

Laurie scoffed. “That was one time,” he rubbed his eyes, wondering what else Amy had told Jo. Yes, he had been in a terrible place in Europe, and yes, he had drank more than usual, and yes, he had indeed caused a scene at Amy’s precious party. But that had been the only time the March girl had seen him at his lowest. Most nights, he had simply resorted to drinking himself to sleep in his own hotel room.

“Teddy, it’s fine. You were enjoying yourself. Europe is different. No one thinks any less of you.”

“Do you really think I was drinking to  _ enjoy myself _ ?” Laurie asked in disbelief, glaring at her. She could not be that stupid. 

Jo seemed to realize the implication behind her words, and shook her head. “Teddy, I’m sorry, I just... “ She chuckled. “But surely, it was not because of me?”

Laurie rolled his eyes. Sometimes she was simply insufferable. “For heaven’s sake, Jo.” He stood up, feeling as frustrated as had the last time the two of them had argued. They were not getting anywhere. 

Jo just sat there, her mouth open, processing the information. “Oh,” she whispered. “I see.”

Laurie crossed his arms, staring at the ground. He knew he shouldn’t be angry. It didn’t matter if Jo acknowledged the toll her rejection had taken on his heart. It was over and done with. But something about her willful ignorance infuriated him. “You must think very little of me, Jo.”

“Why on earth would you say that?!” Jo raised her voice, standing up from the bed as well, circling over to stand in front of him. 

“Because you seriously thought that mere months after you broke my heart, I’d be out and about, partying like nothing had happened! How fickle do you think I am?”

Something in Jo’s expression hardened. “You married Amy a few weeks after that. I would say _quite_ fickle.”

Silence fell in the room, and Laurie realized that there was nothing else he wanted to say. He couldn’t even look at her. “Get out.”

“Gladly,” Jo hissed, marching out the room, slamming the door shut so hard that a picture hanging on the wall fell down with a loud crash. 

Laurie just stood there, staring at the broken shards of glass on the floor. He shouldn’t have lost his temper, but he hated the fact that Jo was not wrong. 

With a sigh, he walked over to the mess they’d made, and began the process of picking up the shards one by one, trying to ignore the ache in his heart that was growing more painful day by day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one will judge Laurie too harshly for his actions here. I really do understand where both of them are coming from, and Laurie, in my opinion, is in the most difficult position out of everyone involved in this "triangle".


	5. i'm leaving out the side door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, my dudes, if you're a hardcore Amy/Laurie fan or perhaps a Friedrich/Jo fan, this fic probably is not for you. I'm sorry if you think what Jo and Laurie are doing is terrible, but remember that this is only one AU among hundreds of others, and is no more canon than any of the rest. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.
> 
> I think this fic is gonna end up being more than 10 chapters, with the way I'm writing it right now. Not sure how long just yet, since I don't really plan ahead when I write, but I would say anywhere between 10 and 20 chapters. 
> 
> And once again, thank you so much for the feedback, reading your comments makes me very, very happy!

“Make no mistake, Miss March, I believe this book will be a big risk,” Mr. Dashwood said firmly, glaring at Jo from behind his desk. The man had, rather abruptly, invited Jo up to his office to discuss her novel, towards which he had started to develop a lukewarm interest. 

Jo was no fool. She knew that however big a risk Mr. Dashwood considered the book to be, it would still be a risk he’d take. He did not seem the kind of man to waste his time. “I assure you, Mr. Dashwood, it will be worth it,” she was not as sure of herself as she claimed to be, but she had to fake it. 

Mr. Dashwood chuckled. “Confidence. I like it. How far along are you with this project?”

“I’ve written about nine chapters”, Jo said. “I brought the rest along,” she handed him the papers containing chapters four to nine. “I thought you’d want a look.”

“Indeed, I do,” Mr. Dashwood looked pleased. “Remember what I told you, the first day that we met. It is essential, as your main character is a girl, that she be married at the end.”

Something about those words hurt Jo more than they had before. And it did not take a genius to know why. She was the main character, and there was no hope for her finding happiness in a marriage. The only man she had ever even thought about spending her life with was already spoken for. “Or dead, you said.”

Mr. Dashwood snorted. “Or dead,” he agreed.

Jo stood up, extending her hand. “I look forward to your thoughts.”

“Good day, Miss March,” Mr. Dashwood let go of her hand and sat back down, already beginning the process of reading through the chapters. Jo watched him for a few seconds before leaving the office, her heart hammering in her chest. She had tried to contain her excitement while actually conducting business, but now she could rejoice in full. Her book would actually be published. 

“Oh, Beth,” she whispered. “I hope I’ve done you proud.”

She stepped into the busy streets of New York, and to her surprise, almost bumped into someone she had never expected to see again. 

“Friedrich,” she gaped. 

“Jo,” he did not look as surprised as she felt. “I… I saw you come in from across the street, and I waited.” 

“I thought you were going to California,” Jo frowned. 

“I’m to leave in a month,” Friedrich explained. “My plans were… delayed.” Something about the man’s words told Jo that perhaps what Amy had implied had been somewhat correct. Perhaps Friedrich had harbored feelings for her. 

“I see,” Jo smiled, shifting from one foot to the other, her previous excitement completely gone now that she was faced with such an awkward situation. 

“Jo, do you think that we could sit for a moment?” Friedrich asked. He looked nervous. Jo frowned, half in mind to decline, but then again, why was she being so suspicious of him? Whatever he wanted from her, it could be completely innocent. 

“Of course,” Jo gestured across the street at a park, where they found an empty bench, sitting down at a relative distance from each other. Jo fumbled with the end of her braid, silently wishing she could get out of this situation. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Friedrich began, causing Jo to glance at him.

“Whatever for? You’ve done nothing.”

“It was inappropriate of me to come to your family home, unannounced,” Friedrich sounded so matter-of-fact, so cold, the way he had been when he had given his criticism of her work. 

Jo sighed. She shouldn’t have thought of that, because it only reminded her of promising to give Laurie her book to read. Laurie, who she had not seen since their argument nearly a month ago.

“Not at all,” she said. “Only… I suppose I did not understand the reason for it.”

Friedrich scoffed, rubbing his eye before turning to face Jo. “I know you are not that unintelligent. In fact, I know you’re not unintelligent at all.”

“Why do all of your compliments have to begin with an insult?” Jo snapped back. “And I do not appreciate this coyness, not from you. Why did you come to Concord?”

“To ask for your hand in marriage, Jo,” Friedrich said, stating it as plainly as possible. “It was completely foolish of me, of course. I have nothing to offer you. No money, no prospects. But still, I thought that you might…,” he shrugged, silencing himself.

So, Amy had been right. Jo watched him, feeling an overwhelming amount of pity for this man. She did care for him, and wished him well, but she did not love him. “Friedrich… I could not make you happy.”

Friedrich shook his head. “You don’t need excuses, not with me.”

“So, you believe I ignored your advances because of your social status?” Jo repeated the words he would not say.

“It would be understandable if you did,” Friedrich responded, his voice monotone once more.

Jo shook her head. “That is not the reason I cannot love you, Friedrich. Though, perhaps I did not know it when we first met.”

Friedrich waited, watching her with curiosity. Even now, nothing about his reaction compared to the desperation in Laurie’s eyes when she had rejected him.

“I am in love with someone else,” that was the first time Jo had said it out loud, and it hurt just as much as she had thought it would. “I cannot have him, but no other will do.”

Friedrich looked surprised, and even allowed himself a chuckle. “This I was not expecting. I thought the great Jo March was too independent to ever allow herself to love.”

“A thought I once entertained, too,” Jo admitted. “But I was wrong.” She had said and thought that phrase countless times in the past months, and yet, it changed nothing.

Friedrich nodded. He looked like he wanted to ask more, but remained silent. Jo was grateful for it, for she did not think she could speak about Laurie more even if he asked. It was her own, dirty little secret. 

“That is why I cannot accept your proposal, or anyone else’s,” Jo explained. “I am sorry, truly.”

Friedrich stood up, looking down at Jo with a surprising calmness. Perhaps he had not loved her quite as fiercely as Amy had claimed. “I do not know who this man is, but he is ridiculous if he thinks he can find anyone better than you.”

Jo smiled bitterly. If only it were that easy. “Thank you, Friedrich.” 

He was about to walk away when Jo called after him: “If you’re ever in want of a home-cooked meal, you are welcome to stop by whenever you’d like. Marmee loves company.”

Friedrich only smiled, acknowledging her words with a nod before crossing the street, disappearing into the crowds. Jo watched him go, her thoughts on Laurie, as they often were. Would he have wanted her to accept Friedrich and put their dilemma to bed? It did not matter much to her if the answer was yes, as Jo would simply do what she wanted to do, but it was a thought that crossed her mind.

No. She would not sink to Laurie’s level and marry someone else simply because she was lonely. She was better than that. Jo March would never settle.

* * *

It had been difficult, being away from Laurie all the while knowing that he was so close, but at the same time, Jo was furious at him. All the feelings she had been harboring towards him this entire time were coming to the surface, and every time the two of them talked, she felt like she was getting closer to the breaking point. So, it was better to keep her distance, or she might say or do something she would end up regretting.

Because she did not regret calling Laurie fickle. He was, and he was a fool if he thought otherwise. How could the man truly claim that he had loved her as feverishly as he had proclaimed, only to confess his undying love for her sister only moments after? It did not add up, and Jo knew that, in her stubbornness, it would be useless to ask for an explanation, as nothing Laurie could say or do would make it right. Marriage was not something you simply walked out of. Sure, some people did, but it was always frowned upon. And Laurie had known that. He had signed a binding contract with Amy that could not be broken, so he had absolutely no right to come to her and accuse her of anything. Perhaps Jo had been the one to make the first mistake, but Laurie had made the fatal one.

To distract herself from the fact that the man she both loved and hated was a walking distance away, she decided to go to the theatre. She always enjoyed it, even if the little theatre productions in Concord were nothing compared to the ones she’d seen in New York. She had asked Meg and John to accompany her, but as they could not find someone to watch the children, Jo was forced to go on her own. Not that she truly minded, she was there for the play, after all.

She sat down, ready to immerse herself in a few hours of harmless fun, only to feel someone poking at her shoulder, forcing her to turn to whoever had disturbed her. She frowned as she was met with none other than Amy and Laurie. _Perfect._

“Do you want to sit with us?” Amy whispered, keeping her voice low as the production was about to begin. 

For a brief second, Jo met Laurie’s gaze, and the anger in his eyes was clear. “No,” she said, turning back in her seat. She hoped Amy would not take offense. She was not mad at her sister, she was mad at her sister’s husband, as ridiculous as that sounded.

All throughout the play, Jo could practically feel Laurie’s eyes on the back of her head, but not once did she turn around. She would not give him the satisfaction. He had been the one who had gotten angry at her and told her to get out. She would stay out of his life until he became man enough to apologize for his temper tantrum. 

“Laurie, I’m going to use the washroom,” Jo heard Amy whisper in the middle of what seemed to be an important scene. For all her gushing over how much she adored the theatre, Amy could barely ever sit still to watch a production.

As soon as Amy was gone, Jo could feel Laurie leaning closer, his breath on the back of her neck. “Jo”, he whispered.

“Be quiet,” Jo hissed. “I’m trying to watch this.” 

In truth, she had not been able to focus on the production the entire evening. Something about a fair maiden who was in love with a man far richer than her. It was a simple premise, but for the life of her, she could not keep up with it.

“I need to speak with you,” Laurie insisted. “Come on, before Amy gets back.”

Jo shook her head, still not turning around. “Leave me alone, Teddy.” 

Laurie remained silent for a few seconds, and Jo thought that perhaps he had finally given up. And then, he stood up, walking out of the theatre, exiting towards the side door. Jo knew Laurie wanted her to follow. But she was not going to. She was _not_. What if Amy came back to find their seats empty? She would never hear the end of it.

But at the same time, she was curious. Laurie had looked so angry, and now he was willing to apologize? Perhaps she should give him the benefit of the doubt, hear what the man had to say. 

Jo sat there for a few seconds longer, her eyes constantly shifting towards the side door. And then, she let her curiosity get the best of her. She rushed out, following Laurie into the chilly spring evening.

Laurie was waiting, as she knew he would be. He had his hands in his pockets, and he looked more nervous than before. He met her gaze and sighed. “Took you long enough.”

“I am here to see a play, Teddy, not indulge you in your dramatics,” Jo snapped. “What do you want?” she stayed by the stairs, not wanting to get too close.

“You think I’m fickle, do you?” Laurie spoke, continuing the argument as if it had not been a month since the two had even been faced with each other. 

“Teddy,” Jo threw her hands up. “I don’t have time to argue with you! Amy could be back any second.”

“What you consider fickle, dear Jo, was me coming to terms with the fact that you were never going to love me,” Laurie continued, still ignoring Jo’s protests. He took a step closer, fire in his eyes. “I had tried to make you love me, and I had failed. What is _ fickle _ about me trying to move on?”

Jo shook her head. “Enough, Laurie,” she snapped, opening the door. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Laurie reached out and grabbed her arm, preventing her from running off. He slammed the door shut with his foot. “You may call me fickle all you like, Jo, but you, you are a coward.”

Jo met his gaze, the anger in her eyes now matching his. “Excuse me?”

“You hide behind your judgment and your letters,” Laurie snapped. “You criticize me for all that I do, and all that I fail to do, but you, Jo… you have done _nothing_. You did nothing while I was in Europe, you did nothing after I came back, and even now, you do nothing. You are afraid.”

Jo could see the truth in his words. She _was_ afraid. She had always been afraid of love, and being vulnerable with someone. But could he not see that it was not as simple as that? Even if she was not afraid - even if she told him everything she felt, and everything she wanted, it would make no difference. He was married.

“What difference does it make?!” Jo snapped. “What does it matter what I do or do not do? It’s too late.”

Laurie shook his head. “Spoken like someone who’s never been in love.” He let go of her arm. “Love is not rational. It’s not about what makes sense. It’s about what you feel.” 

“Do not force it out of me, Teddy! Don’t you do it. I am trying my best, but it’s _so_ hard. I see you with Amy, and it hurts! I think back on that day, when I say no, and it hurts. Seeing you _hurts me._ Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that going to satisfy you?!” Jo was so angry and so desperate that she wasn’t even quite sure what she was saying, but it was all coming out, and there was no stopping it now. 

“No”, Laurie shushed, his face only inches from her now. He shook his head, reaching up to place his cold hand on her cheek, brushing against the freckles on her cheekbone. He looked so disarmed in that moment, and Jo felt an overwhelming sense of endearment towards this man. A mere sign of pain from her, and he dropped all his weapons, ready to comfort her. “No, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Jo…” He placed his other hand on her cheek as well, their foreheads pressed together. This was the closest they had ever been, and Jo felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest with how fast it was beating.

Jo observed him, taking in everything that she could. The freckles on his sharp nose, those green eyes infused with the loveliest shade of brown. The soft curl to his hair. _His lips._ She found herself leaning ever so closer, their noses brushing together. Laurie’s eyes were closed, as if he was not daring to open them and face reality. Jo could feel his breath on her skin. 

She could kiss him. She could do it, and perhaps everything could finally make sense. She wanted to, and everything within herself told her to do it. But she could not. She knew she could not. Instead, she moved ever so slightly, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. She could feel Laurie’s breath quicken at the motion. Somewhere along the line, Jo’s hands had moved to touch him, one on his neck, the other stroking his cheek. 

How she wished he was hers to touch. But he was not, and even this was wrong. Even this was hurting Amy. She watched as Laurie’s eyes opened, green meeting blue, and smiled. She did not know what to say. But there was an understanding between them, and as Laurie sighed, Jo knew that he was thinking exactly what she was thinking. Slowly, he released her face, placing his hands in his pockets once more. Jo took a few seconds longer, allowing her finger to brush against Laurie’s bottom lip as she retreated, feeling empty. 

“Go back inside,” was all she said, even though every part of her wanted to ask him to stay. 

Laurie nodded. He walked past her, opening the door. As he stood there, he said what Jo never expected him to say. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you,” with that, he disappeared, leaving Jo alone once more.

She closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose. She refused to let the tears come. She would not cry. Crying would do her no good. So, instead, she just stood there for the remainder of the performance, as if frozen still. How was she going to survive this?

* * *

In all of her anger and frustration, Jo had actually forgotten about promising Laurie a look at her book. But she was a woman of her word, and if things were different, she would actually have been curious to hear his thoughts. 

So, as soon as Mr. Dashwood sent back the book with some additional notes, Jo packed up the first nine chapters and walked on over to the Laurence mansion. She felt incredibly self-conscious as she stood there, waiting for someone to open the door. She had never worried about things such as these before, but now, whenever she saw Amy and Laurie together, she was so intimately aware of all of her faults, anything that she could possibly be judged for. She did not care for the feeling at all.

Jo looked up as the door opened. It was the maid, as she had expected. “Good day, Miss March,” the old lady smiled pleasantly. 

“Good day,” Jo smiled back. “Is Laurie home, by any chance? I’ve…”, she gestured at the papers. “Got something for him.”

The maid nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Laurence are in the dining room. Shall I fetch him?” something about the way she said this made Jo lose all confidence. Mr. and Mrs. Laurence. Because, of course. Laurie and Amy were a married couple, and they were now known as a single unit. The way she and Laurie had once been known as a single unit. Suddenly, she could not face them.

“No, don’t disturb them,” she handed her the papers. “If you could just see to it that Mr. Laurence gets these.”

“Of course, Miss March,” the maid smiled, completely unaware of the emotional damage she’d just done on Jo’s heart. She closed the door, leaving Jo by herself once more.

Jo sighed, shaking her head. If anything, she felt better about resisting the urge to kiss Laurie the other day. It was for the best. Amy and Laurie were inseparable now, and she needed to stop getting in the way. Not only for Amy’s sake, but perhaps for her own as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the scene at the theatre is really badly written, so I'm sorry about that. I had a vision in my head but I don't know if I executed it well. Maybe it's because I'm worried about hurting fic!Amy so much that I'm having trouble going through with my original plans. I mean, this is still exactly how I wanted to write this scene, but at the back of my head I was like "fuck, everyone's gonna hate Jo and Laurie so much". I will have to get over that, because what I want most of all is to write this fic the way I first envisioned it, warts and all. People suck sometimes. That's what makes them so interesting.


	6. those eyes add insult to injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was such a weird one, I had no idea where I was going to take it until I was already halfway through writing it. And I have to say, I think that second scene is probably the best writing I've done in a while (this'll be awkward if you guys will end up hating it). 
> 
> Once again, thank you SO MUCH for all the positive feedback. I love talking about this fic with you guys, I really do. Writing has always been my #1 passion, but I never even got myself to finish a published fic because my attention would always be directed towards something else before I could finish. But getting this feedback from you guys is keeping me grounded and keeping me going with this story, so I am very grateful for it.

“Laurie?” Once more, Amy’s voice broke his concentration. He had been in the process of reading the third chapter of Jo’s novel, scribbling down his thoughts on a piece of paper as he read on. He wanted to give Jo as much constructive feedback as he could, if she so valued it. 

“Yes?” he looked up. The two were sitting in bed, Amy with a sketchpad in hand, Laurie with Jo’s novel. All things considered, Amy had taken it rather well when Laurie had told her that he was reading Jo’s book. She had looked confused for a moment, muttering something about wishing she could read it, too. But other than that, she had said nothing. 

Laurie had felt incredibly guilty ever since the night at the theatre. There was no question that, had Jo initiated it, he would have kissed her back. But she had not, and he had not, either. It was a small victory, but it was the best he could cling onto. He hated himself for being on the verge of infidelity practically every single day. He had never thought he would end up like this, so devoid of honor and loyalty.

“I want a child,” those were words Laurie had not expected at all. He stared at her, his eyes wide. His mind was racing a million miles a second, trying to come up with a good excuse to not give his wife what she wanted. He was not ready to be a father. If he could barely keep his hands off Jo, he was not ready to commit to something like this with Amy. 

But… would he _ever_ be? 

“Amy,” Laurie sighed, shuffling the papers in his hands. “Can we talk about this another time?”

“What is so wrong about me asking? You are my husband, that is what a husband is supposed to do, I really don’t understand-”

“ _Amy_!” Laurie interrupted her nervous rambling, grabbing her hand. “We are so young, still. There is time. There is so much time. Why are you in such a rush?”

“Meg and John rushed, too, and look how happy they are.”

It was a weak argument. John and Meg were living from hand to mouth, both completely exhausted, just trying to make do. It was not exactly the picture of a perfect life, at least not to Laurie.

“We are not Meg and John.”

Amy looked like she was going to yell at him, but deflated, shaking her head as she placed her sketchpad on the table. “I’m a foolish woman.”

“Why are you a foolish woman?” Laurie really was too tired for this argument, but the guilt inside him would not let him turn her away. If she wished to scold him, he would be hers to scold tonight.

“I know you love... Jo”, Amy said, and Laurie frowned at the way she seemed to struggle to even get the words out. “But should we not make the best of what we have? I am trying, I truly am, Laurie. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

Laurie let go of her hand, sitting upright. He leaned closer, wishing he could say or do something that would make it better. “The fault is not with you, Amy, you know that. You just need to give me time.”

“Do you truly think time will make anything better?” Amy asked, sincerely wondering as she met Laurie’s gaze. “Do you truly believe you will no longer love her as time goes by?”

Laurie would not lie to her. He never had, and he never would. “No”, he whispered. “But… that doesn’t mean that I don’t…,” he paused. He did not love Amy. He knew he didn’t, and she knew he didn’t. And he never felt worse about himself than he did in that moment, watching the heartbreak on his wife’s face.

Amy sat quietly for a moment, as if contemplating everything he was saying. And finally, she asked: “Does she love you?” 

It was a question Laurie had often wondered. She seemed to, but she had not said it. Laurie was starting to believe she never would. “I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.

Amy shook her head. “I wish I had never gone to Paris,” she whispered, laying back down on the bed, her back turned to Laurie. She blew out the candles on the bedside table, leaving them in darkness. 

Laurie just sat there, knowing nothing he could say or do would make it better. He had practically ruined Amy’s life, and there was nothing he could do to fix that.

* * *

“Teddy, you did not have to do all of this,” Jo gasped. The two of them had decided to meet up a few days later, making their way to the clearing where they used to go all those years ago, often racing to see who could reach the bottom of the hill first. It was their own, private little part of Concord, even if one couldn’t exactly claim a hill as their own property just like that.

“Oh, but you said you love feedback,” Laurie smirked. He laid down on the grass, closing his eyes and enjoying the sun on his face. He let Jo read through his notes on all nine chapters, knowing that she liked to focus when it came to things like these.

Jo chuckled. For most of what she read, she kept silent, but there were a few notes she could not help but comment on. “I should have praised your wonderful dance moves more?”

“Miss Josephine March, I’ll have you know, I am the greatest dancer in all of Concord,” Laurie opened his eyes, smirking up at her. “And you did not do me enough justice.”

The girl just laughed. “Very well, then,” she said. “I will take that into consideration.” She continued with her reading, only speaking up once she was done. “You really took your time with these.”

Laurie glanced at her. “Well, should I not have? It’s your book.”

“You never gave me notes like these before.”

“Well, I was young and impatient. It didn’t occur to me that my opinions might be beneficial to you,” Laurie admitted. And, truthfully, the fact that Jo had listened to Friedrich’s criticism had bothered him, and he had wanted to remind her that she was indeed a wonderful writer. Most of what he had written had been positive, or at least constructive. And he had not lied, either. He had always believed in Jo’s abilities as a writer. 

“You speak as if you’re an old man,” Jo laid down next to him, the papers pressed against her stomach as she closed her eyes. “You are twenty-three years of age.”

“That _is_ old,” Laurie murmured, understanding the irony in his words, considering he had just told Amy that they were too young for children.

“You do not look a day over eighteen,” Laurie felt Jo poke his cheek, and smiled despite himself. He kept his eyes closed, not trusting himself to not do something stupid if he met her gaze now. 

Somehow, once again, the tension was gone. They did not speak of what had happened at the theatre, putting them right back to square one. Laurie hated it, but at the same time, he was thankful for it, because the alternative was not being able to be with Jo at all. 

The two laid there silently for a few minutes, enjoying the peacefulness of just being around one another. It was moments like these that Laurie loved the most. He had never felt as comfortable around anyone as he did around Jo. Whatever they were doing, it always felt right to him. Dancing, ice skating, racing… whatever it was, it was right. But moments like these, where they just remained in each other’s company, neither one needing to fill up the silence with pointless words… Those were the moments that proved to Laurie how much he and Jo could have worked. 

He knew exactly where they were, and he knew Jo did, too. They were right by the spot where he had proposed to her, and she had turned him down, saying that she did not love him. It had been the worst day of Laurie’s life, and even now, after Jo’s lukewarm admission of affection, it still hurt just as much. No matter what would happen in the future, it did not change the fact that the love of his life had turned him down. 

“I used to come here, you know,” Jo spoke. It must have been a half an hour since the two last exchanged words. Laurie had even dozed off for a few minutes. “After you left for Europe.”

Laurie opened his eyes, surprised to see Jo sitting, looking at the scenery around them. So, she was just as aware of the significance as he was. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a part of me wished that I’d find you here, waiting for me,” she turned to look at him, smiling sadly. “A foolish notion.”

Laurie didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do. Whenever Jo did something like this, whenever she expressed her affection, he felt completely helpless. Internally, he was constantly fighting against himself; his need to stay loyal to Amy fighting against his undying love towards Jo. 

He closed his eyes, breathing out. “I should never have asked you.” 

He knew Jo was looking at him, but he would not look back. He would not let this turn into another argument. 

“You should have, just… _later_.” There it was again. Her suggestion that, had he had the foresight to ask her a few years later, she would have said yes. She did not understand what a painful thing that was to say. 

“I’m no mind reader, Jo,” he opened his eyes, but instead of facing her, he looked up at the clouds. He did not have it in himself to fight with her now. Not when Amy’s last words to him were still weighing so heavily on his mind. It felt selfish, to mistreat her so when he was not even entirely sure of Jo’s feelings for him. 

“I’m sorry,” Jo sounded flustered. “I should not have brought it up.”

“No, you should not have,” Laurie finally glanced at her, to see her already looking at him, examining his face. “There is no point.”

“That is what I said last time, and you didn’t seem to care,” Jo pointed out. It was true. That night, at the theatre, he had been so ready to fight with Jo, to do anything to get her to confess her feelings. But… she had not. He was convinced she never would.

It might have seemed foolish, to have such a dire need to _hear_ the words being said. Surely everything Jo was doing was implication enough on its own. But to Laurie, it was not enough, not anymore. Not after the heartbreak she’d caused him in the past.

“I was a fool. I _am_ a fool.” Laurie finally sat, fumbling with Jo’s ring, which he still wore on his finger. “I have made so many mistakes.”

Jo was watching him, desperate to catch his eye, but he would not give her the satisfaction. He needed to say what he wanted to say, and then be done with it. “The day Amy and I married, I knew I was making a mistake.” He remembered it, clear as day. She had looked lovely in her wedding gown, which had been hastily bought before their departure back to Concord. “I knew why she wanted it to happen so quickly.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of you,” Laurie agreed. He was looking up ahead, feeling more tired than he ever had. His body may have been only twenty-three years of age, but his mind was a million years old. “But, I went along with it. I was happy to see her so happy after causing her so much pain.” He sighed. “And, I suppose, I was relieved to see that someone wanted me, in the way I had hoped you would.” 

That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? Laurie was human, he wanted to be loved just like everyone else did. How could he not respond to Amy’s forward and eager affections, when he had just been turned down so abruptly by the woman he had loved for years? “I was relieved, because I knew I was not going to end up alone after all.”

Of course, that had been a foolish fear. He was a rich, young, handsome man. He could have found anyone, taken all the time that he wanted. But his heart had been broken, and he had seen this as the easiest way to mend it.

“Being loved is just as good as loving, I think,” Jo murmured, her voice almost too quiet for Laurie to hear.

He finally looked at her. “No, it’s not. Being loved is nothing without the act of loving the person back. Just as loving someone without being loved in return, too, is nothing.” 

He hadn’t known that he felt this way before saying it, but he knew that he did. Marrying Amy had taught him so. He had convinced himself that Amy loving him would be enough to fulfill him, but it had not been so. Just as loving Jo had not been enough to fulfill him, because she had not felt the same. 

“Teddy…” 

Laurie stood up, his long legs aching from the sudden movement. He looked down at his childhood best friend, and smiled. He would always love her, but he saw that there was nothing else to do. She would never meet him halfway, and he would not allow himself to succumb to his desires. 

“I am truly sorry that I ever put you in that position, Jo. I was so desperate for you to love me back, and in my foolishness, I had convinced myself that you did.”

“It was not foolishness,” Jo argued, standing up. She looked bewildered at his attitude, and he could not exactly blame her. All of his usual fire was gone. Something about Amy asking for a child had completely broken him. It had made things crystal clear in his mind: he was never going to love her, and in marrying her, he had well and truly ruined her life. He had become the kind of man he had always promised himself he would never be. A selfish hypocrite. 

“Yes, it was, Jo”, Laurie insisted. “No, _Jo_ .” He could tell she was going to argue, so he spoke out of turn to silence her. “It was foolish of me. You were my dearest friend, and I loved you so, so much. But you never loved me. In ignoring that, I ruined _us._ ”

Jo looked fierce, angry. He loved her the best when she was like this. She would not let anyone tell her who she was, not even him. “You are doing it again, Teddy.”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to get me to say what I feel, when you know there is no use in it.”

“I’m… I’m really not, Jo,” Laurie spoke truthfully. “At the theatre, _yes._ I was. I had hoped you would say it, because… I don’t know. Perhaps I finally wanted the satisfaction of hearing it. But now? I would rather _not_ hear it, should it be true.”

“What happened?” It was a valid question. Laurie had completely shifted his perspective in the past few days, and Jo had every right to be upset and confused.

“Amy wants a child,” Laurie spoke the words, and immediately, Jo was silent. He watched as her mind worked through the realization, and smiled sadly as she looked away, ashamed. Whenever Amy came up, she looked as ashamed as he felt. Because they both knew that what they were doing was wrong.

“And you… you will give her one?” 

Laurie shook his head. “I cannot. And that is exactly why I can’t do this anymore, Jo,” he said. “I ruined Amy’s life by marrying her. I robbed her of a happy marriage, and now, I’m robbing her of a child.”

“If you had a child with Amy, you would love it,” Jo spoke words that Laurie already knew. 

“Of course I would. But I do not want a child born into an unhappy marriage,” he knew all about rocky family lives, and he was not going to take part in producing another one of those tragic stories. 

“What… Teddy,” Jo looked so confused, so frustrated. Perhaps almost as frustrated as he felt. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I am saying that… if there is ever a chance, even the smallest chance, that I might do one thing right in my life, and give Amy what she wants, I have to let you go.”

Jo looked shocked, but remained silent. It was just as well. Laurie needed to be able to say this without interruption. “I love you, Jo. I always have, and I daresay I always will.” He raised his hand as Jo was about to speak, determined to make it through before she had a word in. “But I do not believe you love me. I have no doubt that you care for me, and perhaps you would have married me, had I asked… _later_ , as you suggested.” He slipped the ring off his finger - the ring Jo had given to him so many years ago. “But I do not believe that what you feel for me is love. Not the kind of love I want from you.” 

He took her hand in his, placing the ring on it. “And it is not fair on any of us for me to still convince myself otherwise.”

They stood there silently for a few seconds. Laurie was looking down, waiting for Jo to either let out a lackluster apology, or to say nothing more. Something akin to what had happened the last time he had bared his soul to her in this very place. And instead…

“ _No_ ”, it was only a single word, but she said it so forcefully, with so much determination, that Laurie could not help but meet her gaze. 

“What?”

“You do not get to do that. If you want to be rid of me, Teddy, _fine_. But do not twist my words and my actions against me to make it easier on yourself. I won’t let you.”

“Jo, I’m so tired, will you just…,” Laurie struggled, trying to walk away, but Jo grabbed onto his arm, keeping him still. 

“No! Damn you, Theodore Laurence, I could just kill you!” Jo snapped, shoving him lightly, causing Laurie to almost lose his balance. He stared at her, his eyes wide. 

“Jo-”

“I _love_ you!” Jo shouted, the words piercing the air, changing everything forever. Finally, he had them. The three words he had always wanted to hear her say. “You are insufferable, impatient - annoying! Every time I see you, I end up angry! But I am in love with you. _I love you_! Don’t ask me how long, because I don’t know. But I _do_.”

She was breathing heavily, and all Laurie could still do was stare. “I love you, Teddy.” 

He should have stopped himself. Everything in him told him to walk away, to tell her that it was too late, but he had always been weak when it came to Jo. So, he rushed to her, cupping her face in his hands, and, finally, he kissed her. 

For all those times that he had dreamed of kissing Jo, none of them compared to the reality. Her lips felt rough against his - of course, the girl never took care of her appearance, why should she have soft lips? Her long lashes brushed against his cheek, her nose bumped against his. But despite that, it felt right. Everything about it felt right.

For a few seconds, Jo did nothing. She just stood there, getting over the shock. Laurie suspected this was the first time she was being kissed, and she was taking her time to process it. And when she did…

Jo’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, instinctively pulling him closer as she leaned into him. Her fingers brushed against the back of his head, and he could feel her heartbeat as his hands touched her neck. It felt surreal. Everything about this seemed like a dream. 

Laurie pulled back, their foreheads pressed together still. The kiss had only lasted for the better part of ten seconds, but already, it had been the best ten seconds of his life. Jo was in his arms, and nothing was wrong. For the first time in years, he felt at ease. He felt whole.

And then, he remembered Amy. And everything came tumbling down.

Their eyes met, and as if they could read each other’s minds, they knew they had just made a fatal mistake. Staying away from each other would have been easier, had they never known any different. But now…

Laurie pulled back slowly, guilt washing over him. He was a monster. “I should not have done that.”

Jo was frowning. She looked so conflicted, so in pain. Laurie wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close, but he could not. Now, more than ever, he could not. 

“You’re right,” she whispered, her voice cracking ever so slightly. “And... I have to let you go, too,” she placed the ring he had just returned to her back on her own finger. 

Laurie took a step back, taking one last, long look at the woman he loved - and who loved him back. What fine luxury this would have been, in another life.

“Goodbye, Jo,” of course he knew it was not goodbye. They would see each other, they would have no choice. Their families were now forever intertwined. But Laurie was saying goodbye to the Jo he had known only for those ten seconds, the Jo that had belonged to him and him alone.

“Goodbye, Teddy,” as soon as she said the words, Laurie turned around, and walked away without looking back, much as he had done all that time ago, on that fated day. Only now, it hurt even more than it had then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if the thing that happened in this chapter (spoilers? I don't know who'd read the end note before reading the chapter, but...) happened the way you guys wanted it, but I knew from the start that I wanted it to happen in this place, where Jo first rejected him. For some reason, it felt important.


	7. you were my town, now i'm in exile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit on the shorter side, but I had a vision for it and I absolutely needed to end it where I did. Hopefully it's still good enough! And yes, again: thank you so much for the feedback, it really does make this fic worth writing. 
> 
> P.S. Happy Birthday to Freddie Mercury! This chapter is dedicated to him. And to anyone who says that the greatest musician of all time wouldn't care about a Jo and Laurie fanfic, I beg to differ. He would absolutely love the drama.

So, it was done. What Jo had been trying so hard to fight, trying so hard to prevent from happening, had come to pass. She had confessed her feelings for Laurie, and they had kissed. She could not believe how terribly she had failed. But… it was _Laurie._ She couldn’t have stayed away if she tried. Not when he had been so ready to let her go forever. He could not do that without knowing how she felt.

And yet, at the same time, it was that exact admission of love that sealed the deal between them. They needed to stay away, because if they did not, they would truly end up breaking everything. There was no easy or clean way out of this, but the best that Jo could think of was staying as far away from Laurie as possible. But that was not so easy when he happened to be married to her sister.

A few weeks after that day on the hill, Amy and Laurie came to the March house for dinner. Jo had excused herself to the attic, using her writing as an excuse to avoid Laurie. But as with most well-meaning intentions, her plan failed.

She had thought they had left already. It was almost midnight, and she was starving. She had snuck into the kitchen only to find Laurie standing there, looking out of the window. He turned at the noise, and looked just as shocked as she felt.

“I’m sorry,” Jo found herself saying. “I thought you’d… gone.”

“We were going to, but Amy’s talking to your mother and Meg about some… I don’t know. I wasn’t listening,” Laurie smiled bashfully, fiddling with his hands, as he often did when he was nervous. “I thought I’d stay out of sight, in case you wanted to join them.”

Jo hummed. The fact that they had both tried to avoid each other and, for that very reason, had bumped into each other, would have been funny under any other circumstances. “I could leave.”

“It’s your house, Jo,” Laurie laughed, the nervousness clear in his voice. “I’ll go.”

He was about to walk past her when Jo grabbed his arm, immediately regretting her actions. Because as soon as she did, she felt that electricity again, that heat that had been between them ever since his return from Europe. But somehow, it was now a thousand times worse. 

Despite herself, her thoughts drifted to their kiss. It had been so sudden, and so brief, almost like a dream. But she could still remember every second of it. His soft lips pressed against hers, the way his fingers brushed her cheeks… 

“Jo?” Laurie’s voice was small. Jo looked up at him, not even remembering why she’d caught his arm in the first place. She let go.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, shaking her head. “My head’s been a mess ever since… you know.”

“Mine, too,” Laurie sounded so frustrated, so infuriated with their situation. Jo could not blame him. She was, too.

When Jo said nothing, Laurie continued: “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about…”

“Me either.”

Their eyes met, and Jo felt that pull again. The same pull she felt every time the two of them dared to be this close. It was almost magnetic, as if some invisible force was pushing her towards Laurie. But she had to resist. They had both promised they would stay away. This wasn't fair. It wasn’t _ right. _

Their noses brushed against one another, Jo’s breath catching in her throat. Since when had she become this weak? She had to resist.

“No,” she murmured, taking a few seconds to gather herself before pulling back. “No.”

“I know,” Laurie looked ashamed. Jo knew the boy well enough to know he blamed himself for everything. But it was Jo’s fault as much as it was Laurie’s. They had both made mistakes that would be impossible to rectify.

“Laurie, where are you?!” They heard Amy’s voice pierce through the silence. She was shouting from the other room. “We’re leaving.”

Laurie smiled at Jo, the love in his eyes so clear. Jo wondered if he had always looked at her like this. Why had she not seen it before?

“Laurie?”

“I’m coming,” Laurie shouted back, reaching out and touching Jo’s cheek for just a second before pulling away, heading for the door.

He took one last look at her, and Jo wanted so very desperately to keep him there. To clutch onto him and to never let him go. But she couldn’t. Now more than ever, she couldn’t. 

She watched him go, and sighed. This was not going to work. 

* * *

If there was a single upside to her deteriorating relationship with Laurie, it was the fact that at least now, Jo had more time to dedicate to her book. And dedicate the time, she did. She was now on chapter fifteen of her novel, adding things and removing things from chapters as she saw fit. Mr. Dashwood was absolutely delighted, and in a way, Jo was, too. Writing had always been first love, and if it would now be the only thing she had left, it was still better than nothing.

Her hands ached, but it did not matter. Nor the fact that her clothes, fingers and even her desk were covered in drying ink. She had to catch this inspiration before it left her. She had always been fueled by her emotions, and her pain and her sadness fueled her writing more than ever before. 

During a writing frenzy, she heard footsteps approaching the attic, and thought it might be Marmee, as it so often was. Her mother liked to come in and ask her how she was doing, whether she needed food or drink. So, she spun around in her chair, a smile on her face… only to find Amy standing there.

She had not seen Amy in weeks. Thanks to Jo successfully avoiding Amy, the last time the two sisters had been together had been before the kiss. That fated kiss that had possibly ruined both Jo and Laurie’s lives for good. Jo scanned Amy’s face, wondering if she knew. She looked angry. She looked heartbroken. Had Laurie said something?

“Sorry to disturb you,” Amy said, but her voice was colder than ever before. As Jo stared at her, she was almost sure that Laurie had told her something. But why would he? 

“What’s wrong?” Jo asked, trying not to let her voice betray her. It could be that Amy was upset about something entirely different, something not related to the man they were both in love with. 

“I was looking through things in Laurie’s desk today,” Amy said, stepping a bit closer, pulling out two pieces of paper that Jo could not really make out. “I was looking for a paper knife. And instead… I found this.” 

Jo frowned, leaning in closer, finally identifying the pieces. It was the letter she had written to Laurie, and torn in half. He had kept it. She should have felt more surprised than she did.

“Amy-”

“Did you, or did you not write this?” Amy asked. To her credit, her voice was still steady, but Jo could see her bottom lip trembling. She was so very close to the temper tantrums Jo knew and loathed.

“I did,” Jo said, determined to remain calm. “I left it in the post box for him, before you came back, Amy. I didn’t know you two were an item.”

“But Laurie clearly found it! You _must_ have wanted him to see it, even after!”

“I really did not.” Jo stood up, extending her hands to touch her sister, but Amy stepped back, shaking her head. She had a right to be upset. Jo had not been transparent with her, even when Amy had tried so hard to turn a new leaf. “He found it in the box before I had a chance to destroy it.” 

“Spare me, Jo!” Amy scoffed. “You never make mistakes. You wanted him to know how you felt.”

Jo rolled her eyes, knowing Amy would not believe an alternative narrative. “It doesn't matter what you think, Amy. And it doesn’t matter what Laurie knows. He is  _ your  _ husband.” 

“Exactly.  _ My _ husband.” There was a fire in Amy’s eyes Jo rarely saw. She was no longer just hurt, she was angry. “And don’t think I don’t know what you two have been up to. I am not stupid.”

Jo hesitated. “Laurie’s told you something?”

She knew it had been a mistake, for Amy actually laughed, looking devastated. “No. But I think you just confirmed it for me.”

“Amy”, Jo breathed. “I am not trying to take Laurie away from you. And even if I was, I could not. He’s married to you.” 

“And how fine it is, that the only thing stopping my sister from stealing the love of my life is the fact that he’s legally bound to me,” Amy said, her voice cracking. “I always knew I’d end up second place to you, but I did not expect this. I thought Laurie had some honor in him. I thought you cared about my happiness even a little.” 

Jo didn’t even know how to unpack Amy’s outburst. She took a breath, shaking her head. “Laurie hasn’t done anything wrong, Amy. He is a man of honor.” She didn’t know if she really meant it. Yes, Laurie had kissed her, but he had also stayed away when he could easily have been with Jo in secret, juggling two women at once. He was trying, and that, to Jo, was honorable. “And I do care about your happiness.”

“No, he is not, and no, you don’t. You never have.”

“Amy-”

“Even when we were young, you _ knew _ I loved him, and yet, you did not let me have a moment alone with him.” Amy shook her head. “I should have known that would continue into adulthood.”

“I didn’t know anything. You were twelve years old, Amy!” Jo snapped, shrugging her shoulders. “Forgive me for not identifying him as the great love of your life. But despite what you think, I did not spend time with Laurie to get back at you. I did it because I loved him, too.” If she was entirely honest with herself, she did not believe she had fallen in love with Laurie in their youth. But whatever feelings she had developed for him now had been planted already, from their first meeting. Even if she had not known it then.

“If you loved him, why did you reject him?” Amy asked the question Jo had asked herself hundreds of times.

“Because I thought marriage was a death sentence. I thought I would be unhappy,” Jo said. She wasn’t even sure if marriage was for her now, but she knew Laurie was. The irony in that was almost laughable.

Amy seemed to accept this answer, looking down at the two pieces of paper. “But you’ve changed your mind.”

“Yes.”

For a moment, Amy looked so small. There were tears in her eyes, and Jo wanted to hold her, to apologize for everything she’d done. But she did not. She was not good, like Beth, or sensible, like Meg. She was harsh and selfish, and too smart to believe that any sort of apology could make this right.

“Amy, I will not do anything to pursue Laurie. He knows of my feelings, and I know of his. But neither of us want to hurt you. It is the last thing that we want,” that part was true. “I will stay away. I promise.”

Amy met her gaze. “I think you should leave.” 

Jo should have blamed Amy for the proposition, but she knew she was right. It was a thought she’d entertained for a while herself. She did not need to be in Concord to write. She could send Mr. Dashwood her chapters from anywhere. “If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.” 

It was so unlike her to surrender like this, but she needed to do this. For once, she needed to be selfless and to just let Laurie and Amy be happy, if that was in the cards for them. She could not be in the way. 

Amy nodded, handing her sister the torn-up letter. “I truly am sorry that I did not consult you before marrying Laurie. I am. I did not do it maliciously. I thought your rejection meant you didn’t love him.”

“I know,” for everything that Amy had done to her over the years, Jo did not believe she had married Laurie to spite her. They had just happened to fall in love with the same man, at the same time. It was like something right out of a Shakespearean play. 

Amy said nothing more, leaving Jo alone with her thoughts and regrets. 

* * *

Perhaps, under different circumstances, Jo would have sent Laurie a letter, or even go to him, for a proper goodbye. But she could not bear herself to do it. She knew Amy did not want her to be in contact with Laurie, and she knew he would try to stop her if she did tell him. So, she simply packed her bags, with a half-baked plan in her head.

“Are you sure you want to do this? Amy was angry, she is going to come around,” Marmee said as she watched Jo, who dashed around her room, gathering everything she might need. 

Jo glanced at Marmee and wondered how much she knew. Her mother was very intuitive, and it was possible that she knew exactly what was going on. But Jo had not told her anything further than what she had known before Laurie’s return. That she regretted turning him down, and wanted a second chance. 

“She won’t, not about this,” Jo shook her head. “It’s time I see the world, Marmee. Aunt March left me with more money than I would know what to do with, might as well use it.”

“Yes, darling, but… Europe! You have never been there, how will you know what to do, where to go?” Marmee was not one to fret, but this was very short notice, so Jo understood her anxieties. 

“London sounds rather fine. I was never much good at French, anyway,” Jo looked around, making sure she had everything. “I will write. Don’t worry.”

“You’re my daughter, I’m always going to worry,” Marmee said softly. “And don’t think I don’t know what this is about. Or, rather,  _ who _ it is about.”

“Tell him nothing. It’s better he doesn’t know where I’ve gone to”, Jo grabbed her bags, trying her hardest to fake a smile. “This is all for the best, Marmee. You’ll see.” 

Marmee walked closer, wrapping her arms around her daughter and holding her tight. “I am very proud of you, you know,” she whispered. 

Jo frowned. “Why?” She always considered herself the black sheep of the family, no matter how much praise she might receive from her parents.

“You’re doing a selfless thing, protecting Amy’s feelings. You have always been so selfless, Jo.” 

Jo didn’t know what to say to that. She had always considered herself to be very selfish, in everything. Marmee words touched her more than she could express. 

“I’ll write,” she said again, pulling away. “Take care of Father, and give Meg and John my best.” 

Marmee nodded, stepping out of her way. “Be safe.”

Jo left the house in the middle of the night, determined to catch the first train, not wanting anyone to see her go. And yet, despite herself, she found herself gravitating towards the Laurence house, just on the off-chance that she might see him. It was three in the morning, there was no reason for Laurie to be awake, and yet…

He was playing the piano by the window, his long fingers brushing the keys, his hair a mess. It looked like he’d woken up and had gone down to play. Jo wondered if this was something he did often, if they were both often kept up by their thoughts.

She watched him for a few minutes, a soft smile on her face. She wished that she could knock on the window and talk to him. She had a sudden, almost aggressive need to hear his voice, to look into his eyes, to touch him. But she could not. She needed to do this for Amy. She needed to be selfless. 

So, with great reluctance, she turned away from the window, and began her walk towards the town’s train station. It was for the best, she kept telling herself. She would have a grand old time in Europe, and when she’d come back, Laurie and Amy would be as happy as could be, and everything would go back to normal. 

Of course, she knew this was a fool’s wish. She knew that running away would solve nothing. But if there was even a chance that she could aid Amy and Laurie in their happiness, she would take it. She knew she would be able to live with her own unhappiness. After all, it was what she had already done for years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was meh as fuck. Be ready for a big, old time skip in chapter 8! Hopefully it'll make up for this one.


	8. there is no amount of crying i can do for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult to write, but I enjoyed it because Laurie is my boy and I really love writing his chapters. I think he is a lot harder for me to write for, because Jo is the one I primarily relate to out of the two, but I enjoy the challenge.

Laurie had not seen Jo in weeks, and despite the fact that this was completely what they had decided on, together, he still missed her daily. Not only as a lover, but as a best friend, too. The only times Laurie had been so consistently parted from Jo had been during his studies, and during his time in Europe. He had known everything would be more difficult after his marriage to Amy, but he had never expected any of  _ this. _

“Laurie? Where are you going?” He had been heading down the stairs, fastening his waistcoat. He turned around at the sound, looking up at Amy, who was standing a bit further up the stairs, looking suspicious as she did on most days.

“I thought I might pay Jo a visit,” he admitted. “See if she’s got any more chapters for me.”

Amy wasted no time, immediately responding: “Jo’s gone. She left for Europe a few days ago.”

Laurie paused. He must have misheard her. “What?”

“Marmee says that she left for Europe. I suppose she finally got tired of being cooped up in the house,” Amy shrugged. Laurie frowned. No. This could not be.

Jo would not just leave without telling him. Despite everything, she would give him the courtesy, would she not?

But, a voice in the back of his head reminded him, had he given her any warning before running off to Europe after her rejection? No. He had not.

He tried to think of the right words to say. He wanted to scream, to pry more into it, to ask Amy if she was certain. But he knew that whatever he said would only make Amy more suspicious. “I’m surprised. She didn’t say anything of the sort.”

“Perhaps she could no longer bear the shame,” something in Amy’s eyes told Laurie that she knew more than she led on. 

“The shame of what?”

Amy’s eyes narrowed. She walked down the rest of the steps, looking more distraught the closer she got. And Laurie knew that she knew. She had to know. “Of whatever it is that the two of you have been getting up to behind my back.”

Laurie’s mouth fell open. For a few seconds, he had no idea what to say. “Amy, I don’t know what-”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ lie to me!” Amy snapped, her voice echoing through the house. “Don’t you dare! I saw the letter!”

“The-”, realization hit Laurie. Amy had gone into his drawer and seen the letter. He knew he should have simply destroyed it, but had not been able to bring himself to do it. “Amy, it is not what you think.”

“Oh? So, you two haven’t been sneaking around behind my back? You haven’t been…,” Amy couldn’t say it, only shaking her head. “I knew something was off when you wouldn’t touch me. It is no wonder, really. You were already bedding my sister.”

“Amy! You cannot believe that!” Laurie was aghast at her accusation, but truthfully, he knew it was folly. If he and Jo had lacked even the smallest amount of self-restraint, the two would have certainly ended up taking things even further than they had.

“Even if you haven’t taken her to bed, you have done  _ something. _ ” Amy’s voice was cold, filled with icy rage. She had been sitting on this for a while, and was trying to keep her cool. Laurie, on the other hand, was simultaneously trying to process the departure of Jo, and Amy’s accusations. 

“Amy…”

“Are you or are you not guilty of infidelity?” Amy interrupted, tears welling up in her eyes. “If you lie to me, Laurie, I will never forgive you.”

Laurie had a feeling she would not forgive him in either case. “I am”, he spoke truthfully. A kiss was as good a betrayal as anything else, and even his feelings for Jo were grounds enough for some form of betrayal. 

Amy took a breath, closing her eyes as a tear rolled down her cheek. Laurie reached out to touch her arm, but she slapped it away, shaking her head. “Don’t you touch me. I trusted you. I trusted you _ both _ .”

“You knew I was always going to love her, Amy”, Laurie whispered, knowing full well that his excuse was weak and spineless.

“I know that!” Amy snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “Believe me, I know it. We might as well have included Jo in our nuptials, that’s how much I knew.” She glared at him, betrayal written all over her face. “But... I was willing to live with that because… because I thought she did not love you!” 

Laurie looked down. “I thought the same.” 

The two stood there silently, Laurie wracked with guilt, and Amy seemingly distraught. She looked tired, too. Worn out and stressed. Laurie had done that to her, just as he had driven Jo out of the country. “Where does this leave us?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Amy shook her head. “I am your wife, you are my husband. Everyone knows it. The entire bloody county knows it!” She buried her head in her hands. “I wish you had not asked me. I wish you had  _ kept your mouth shut _ , and I could have been happily married to Fred by now.”

Her words hurt, but it was nothing more than what Laurie himself had thought about these past few months. “You didn’t love Fred.” 

“No, but _ you _ don’t love _ me _ .” Amy stated it plainly and clearly, as if it was in no way up for debate. “You were hurt, and you attached yourself to the closest person who seemed to want you. And I let you. And what’s more, I let myself believe that you might care for me.” Everything she was saying was true, but it made it no less hard to hear.

“I _ do _ care for you.”

Without warning, Amy leaned closer, pressing their lips together, her hand on Laurie’s cheek. He fell immobile for a few seconds, trying his hardest not to compare her soft lips to Jo’s, and failing miserably. Now that he knew what kissing Jo was like, nothing else compared.

Amy pulled back, chuckling sadly. “Was that the stuff of great romance?” 

Laurie just looked at her, wishing he could make it better. He would give anything to be madly in love with Amy, and completely over Jo. Everything would be easier if he was. “I am truly sorry for everything I’ve done to you, Amy. I am. I never meant for this to happen.”

Amy breathed out, pulling back and letting go. “Save your apologies, they won’t do us any good.” Her newfound practical nature was shining through once more as she repeated her earlier statement: “You are my husband, and I am your wife. We cannot undo that. We must make the best out of what we have.”

She turned around, about to head back upstairs when she added: “I told Jo to leave. So, if you wish to take your anger out on someone, take it out on me.”

But Laurie had no anger left. He only had guilt, sadness and regret. So much regret. Without a word, he sunk down to sit on the steps, burying his head in his hands. Jo was gone, and Amy resented him. How had this happened? How could he make such a continuous string of mistakes, one after another? And how could he possibly ever make it right?

* * *

It had been six months since Jo’s departure for Europe, and Laurie still had no idea where she was. Amy did not know, and even if she did, she would not tell him. The two had never been on worse terms. Yes, they continued to live together, eat together, and sometimes go to functions together, but there was no warmth. Amy resented Laurie for betraying her, and Laurie resented Amy for driving Jo away. Suddenly, they had absolutely nothing to talk about. 

Due to this, Laurie spent most of his days alone, either playing the piano, scribbling away notes for his very own opera (which Amy still considered a waste of time), and helping his grandfather now and again. Despite having a wife, and being surrounded by a multitude of people, Laurie had never felt more alone. He missed Jo more than ever. Every day, he looked out the window, hoping that perhaps he’d catch a glimpse of the March girl stepping inside the house, finally returning home. And every night, he sat by the window, hoping to see a light in the attic. Neither ever happened, and as the days went by, Laurie became more and more hollow.

On a particularly gloomy, rainy afternoon, Laurie was spending his time by the piano once more, trying to figure out the appropriate melody to go with the song he had written. He suddenly understood what Jo had been about all those years, saying how her feelings fueled her creativity. Laurie had never felt more creatively productive than he did now, but somehow, it still was not enough. It was progress, it was creation, but at the same time, it meant nothing.

There was a knock on the door, but Laurie ignored it, expecting it to be his grandfather, or perhaps a maid. But when he heard a familiar cough, he turned around, finding Marmee standing by the door, a basket in her hand, and a warm smile on her face. She had always had a way of making Laurie feel like he belonged, even back when he had had no association with her daughters. But Laurie had been afraid that perhaps she had come to resent him just as Amy had. He could not have blamed her. 

“Mrs. March,” Laurie could not bear to call her Marmee, not under these circumstances. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He stood up, walking over to her, hands in his pockets. “How are you?”

“I could ask you the same, my boy,” Marmee said, concern on her face. She reached out a hand and touched his cheek, patting the skin. “Are you eating well? You look so skinny.”

It was true. Laurie had lost weight, and looked more gaunt and pale than ever. But Marmee did not need to know that. “Oh, certainly. It’s just the lighting. No need to worry.”

“You never were a good liar, Laurie,” Marmee smiled softly. She pulled away, placing the basket on top of the piano, taking out the various foods she had packed with her. “What was that you were playing just now?”

“A song I’ve been working on. It’s not finished,” Laurie followed her, silently helping her with the task of unboxing, noting all of his favorite foods among the treats. Marmee’s kindness always amazed Laurie.

“I hope you will let us hear it when it is finished.”

“If you’d like,” Laurie tried to smile, but he was too filled with shame. He knew that Marmee must have known something. If she did not know about his situation with Amy, then she at least knew about the fact that he had been the one to practically run her daughter out of the country.

“Sit down and eat. And before you object, I’ll have you know that I am not leaving this house until I see some color back on those cheeks”, Marmee took a seat by the piano, crossing her arms and waiting. She reminded Laurie so very much of Jo sometimes, with her incredible spirit, stubbornness and generally eccentric nature. It only made him miss Jo more.

With a bit of reluctance, Laurie sat down on the piano stool, biting into a pastry. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he’d been. “This is delicious, Mrs. March, as always.”

“I would tell you to call me Marmee, but you know very well that it is what I prefer”, Marmee smiled. There was such a maternal energy about her, one that Laurie had always felt drawn to. He had never had a stable, consistent family life, nothing like the Marches had. To have a figure like Marmee in his life was sometimes too much for him to even comprehend. He almost believed he did not deserve it.

“Laurie, may I be blunt?”

Laurie looked up, taking another bite. “Of course.” He had already heard the worst he could possibly hear from Amy, and from his own, self-deprecating thoughts.

“I know that you and Amy are not getting along right now. She did tell me why, and I was not surprised when I heard. You and Jo have always had a special connection,” Laurie frowned, wondering if she meant it in a bad way. How could she possibly condone it?

“I am truly sorry for all the pain I’ve caused your daughters,” he said. “If I could take it back, I would.”

“I know it, and they know it, too. Yes,  _ both _ of them”, Marmee said, her voice gentle. “They both love you terribly. It is no easy situation.”

Laurie didn’t know what to say to that. He felt a bit lighter, knowing that Marmee did not at least completely hate him. But still, nothing was changed. Jo was still gone, and Amy still hated him. “Have you heard from Jo recently?”

“About a month ago”, Marmee nodded. “I’m sorry, my boy, but she’s told me not to tell you where she is. She knows you’d follow after her, and I’m inclined to agree.”

“I don’t want her to feel like she can’t come home because of me,” Laurie confessed. “If that is the case, I would rather leave. Concord is a part of Jo.”

“As much as she’d appreciate your chivalry, I do not think that is why she left.”

“She left so Amy and I could be happy. It sounds quite close to what I just said,” Laurie pointed out. Even if Marmee tried to relieve his feeling of guilt, it was not going to go away anytime soon. He was the reason Jo was gone, and he was the reason she could not come back.

“She believes that you and Amy have a chance,” Marmee agreed. “I wonder.” 

Laurie looked up, surprised.

“I want happiness for both my daughters. Amy does not deserve to be half-loved. A part of me wants to beg you to love her, to make her as happy as she always thought you would make her. But I know that is not how the human heart works.” 

Laurie bit the inside of his cheek, avoiding Marmee’s gaze. He felt so unbelievably guilty. He put the pastry away, losing his appetite once more.

“I hope you will come to love her as she loves you. I don’t claim to know everything, and stranger things have happened.” Marmee continued. “But…” She did not finish her sentence, but the implication surprised Laurie. 

“We are bound for life.”

“Most likely, yes,” Marmee agreed. “So, I think you should take this time without Jo to consider what you really want, and what you truly believe you will be able to live with. It was a hasty decision that got you into this mess, so I implore you to now take the time. Reflect.”

“You speak as if there _ is _ a choice,” Laurie frowned. “There is not.” Of course, there was. A divorce. But Laurie knew, as well as anyone, that divorce would be social suicide. Not only would it ruin both his and Amy’s reputation, but it would also tarnish the reputation of his family, and perhaps make Amy unable to find a second husband at any point in her life. As badly as he was treating Amy now, he still felt that divorce would yield a worse result for his wife. And he was determined to never cause her pain again.

“It is certainly not a choice I would walk into lightly,” Marmee agreed. “It would destroy everything you have built. It would break my daughter's heart. But as it stands now, her heart is already shattered. What could be worse than this?” 

Laurie wondered what Marmee and Amy had spoken of, if they had discussed the possibility of divorce. “I only want both Amy and Jo to be happy.”

“I know,” Marmee stood up, placing a hand on Laurie’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “You are a good man, Laurie. And you married my daughter because she loved you, and let the other go because you loved her. Whatever may have come to pass, I do not resent you for any of it. I would be a hypocrite if I did. Love is a fool’s game, after all.”

Laurie did not ask what she meant. In that moment he felt like he could bear no more. 

They did not speak much after that. Marmee simply sat and watched Laurie eat for a few minutes, and then took her leave. The guilt was eating Laurie alive, and he missed Jo more than anything. Everything seemed pointless. Even Marmee’s kindness was losing its merit mere seconds after she left. All Laurie had was the continuous, aching guilt and regret. 

* * *

On more than one occasion, Laurie had thought about going off to Europe, to go on that wild goose chase to find Jo. But Marmee had made it clear that Jo did not want him there, and he was not about to disrespect her wishes. So, for the next four months, he did his best to live his life as normally as he could, spending time with his grandfather, the Marches, John, and even Amy, now and again. Whatever Marmee had told Amy had softened her, at least to an extent, because at least now they were speaking. Amy read his first draft of his opera, he gave his opinions on her latest paintings, and they very much lived in their very own world, constructed by their unspoken rules. Those rules embodied what their relationship had always been about: superficial feeling, denial, and lack of communication. They did not speak of Jo, divorce, Laurie’s infidelity, Amy’s desire for a child, or the possibility of Jo’s return. They merely co-existed. It was not happiness, but it was better than loneliness.

“Jo is returning,” it was the first time the older March girl’s name had been uttered in months. Laurie looked up from his seat by the piano. Not a day had gone by when he had not thought of his dear Jo, but he had to admit, her absence had made his life easier. Not happier, but less complicated. It was something he hated himself for feeling. And now that she was coming back, he felt all the more conflicted.

“She is?”

“Tomorrow,” Amy watched him, curiosity in her eyes. 

“Mm.” Laurie turned back to his notes, scribbling nonsense to the side of the page to avoid Amy’s speculative gaze.

“When she returns, I can trust you to not embarrass me again, yes?” Laurie wanted to roll his eyes or scoff, or to call her out on her blunt statement, but she had every right to say what she was saying. If word of his extramarital activities with Jo ever got out, it would humiliate Amy, and his family name. She was not in the wrong.

“I would not worry about that, Amy, I’m sure she’s forgotten all about me,” Laurie hadn’t admitted it to himself before the words actually slipped out of his mind, but… he did still resent Jo for leaving. Without a word, out of nowhere, and with no idea where she had even gone. He had not done much better during his own adventures abroad, but at least she had always been able to know where to find him, should something happen. She had given him no such courtesy. 

“You are not seriously asking me to assure you that your former lover still has feelings for you, are you?”

Laurie didn’t like that word.  _ Lover. _ Given the context and his status as a married man, the word sounded almost dirty.

“You’re right. Forgive me,” Laurie took a breath. He had made a promise to himself that he would be loyal to Amy. They had improved greatly in the past few months, and while it was still not love, it was comfortable. It was practical, it was safe. It was what any man should hope for in a marriage. What Laurie wouldn’t give to be just any man.

“Answer my question, Laurie.”

“I will stay away from Jo,” Laurie snapped. “For your sake, as well as hers.” And perhaps, for his own.

Amy did not look satisfied, but she dropped the subject, turning back to her sketch. Laurie looked out of the window, wondering what it was going to be like to see Jo again after all this time. It had only been about a year, but it felt like a lifetime. He did not feel like he was the man he had been when she had departed. And perhaps Jo would no longer be the woman he loved, either. The logical side of him almost wished for that. That way, it would be easier to fall out of love. But the rest of him knew better. There was nothing on this earth that could make Laurie fall out of love with Jo March. That was the problem. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lack of Jo and Laurie scenes in this chapter. My original idea was to do a time skip, but I wanted to write more about Laurie's thought process and how his life has somehow changed during Jo's time away, so I opted for this kind of "intermediate" chapter instead. Next chapter we'll go back to business as usual. And the reason I say all of this is because the Jo/Laurie tag is absolutely filled with Amy/Laurie fics that have nothing to do with Jo/Laurie but just have the tags for one reason or another, and I don't want this fic to be that kind of experience for Jo/Laurie fans. This story is not about Amy/Laurie, and never will be. I am interested in Laurie's character development, so obviously Amy's presence is relevant. But in case someone was worried/bothered by the lack of the main ship in this chapter, I promise it's absolutely temporary.


	9. we always walked a very thin line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up 15 minutes late without a Starbucks because I'm broke* So I had promised myself I would try to post every other day because I still have free time for like the next month and after that I'm moving to another country, so I GUESS that'll occupy me for a little bit. And because my concentration is so shit, I really want to be able to keep a consistent pace on this while I still am physically able to. Kinda failed there but this week has been very, very excellent for my little fandom heart, so I hope you'll excuse me. BUT I am back now, and I hope this chapter doesn't suck because I'm really nervous and it probably does suck so yeah there's that okay bye.

Maybe she should not have come back at all. That was the primary thought in Jo’s mind as she sat on the train, her mind going over the different possibilities of what could be waiting for her. Best case scenario, nothing much would have occurred, and she would go back to her regular life. Worst case scenario, Amy and Laurie were now deeply in love, and perhaps even with child. As she thought of this, the irony of her feelings did not escape her. A good sister would have been overjoyed at the idea of her sister having a child with her husband. But she was not a good sister. She never had been, and she had only become worse and worse as more time had gone by.

Not for the first time, she wondered if she should have left at all. She knew that, as far as Amy and Laurie were concerned, it was for the best. But for herself? As much as she had loved Europe, and had loved the liberty of exploring new places all by herself, she had felt ever so lonely the entire time. Not even the bustling beauty of London, the sophisticated class of Paris, the romantic mystery of Rome, or the modern aesthetic of Berlin managed to make Jo stop thinking about Laurie. It was ridiculous, truly. Her entire life, Jo had looked down on the prospect of marriage because it would, no doubt, get in the way of her pursuing her independence. But here she was, unmarried, and unable to enjoy her independence  _ because  _ she was without a husband. Of course, she knew it was not as simple as that. She did not want just any husband. She wanted Laurie. Still, her teenage self would have looked down on her sentiments, and called her a silly little girl for placing her happiness on the shoulders of a man. 

Jo wished she could come back to Concord a changed woman. Completely out of love with Laurie, and willing and able to continue her life without him in it. But that was not the case any more than it had been a year ago. It seemed she had gone on a very expensive journey to find herself only to come back empty-handed. 

She had no idea what had happened in her absence. She had only sent a few letters, and only to Marmee, and had specifically asked not to be told of anything, unless someone was ill or in need of help. So, she was coming back completely blind. It had seemed like a good idea when she had been away, to shield herself from the possible pain. But now, it seemed like a foolish decision. She would rather know than live in uncertainty, always wondering.

Upon her return, Jo decided to take the back entrance, hoping that perhaps she could avoid being seen, at least for a bit. She wanted peace and quiet, and to be able to prepare herself for whatever would be waiting for her. But of course, it was not to be. As soon as she opened the door, she was met with Meg, Amy and Marmee, who were all sitting by the dining room table, with Father, Mr. Laurence, John and Laurie sitting in the living room area. She paused in the doorway, quieting the soft curse that was about to leave her lips. 

“Jo!” Father was the first one to speak, smiling brightly as he stood up from his seat, rushing over to hug his daughter. Jo had missed his warmth, and his wonderful, endearing obliviousness. He had no idea what was going on, and there was some comfort in that. “We thought you were arriving tomorrow!”

“I thought I would…,” Jo sighed, hugging her father back, closing her eyes to avoid looking at anyone else. “Surprise you.” In truth, she had wanted to come in unnoticed. It was almost midnight, after all. She had expected everyone to be in bed.

“And what a wonderful surprise,” Marmee had joined in on the hug, and as they embraced, the two women’s eyes met. Jo knew Marmee knew exactly what she was thinking. Her mother gave a smile, but Jo did not know what it meant.

As they pulled away, Meg and John rushed over, asking about Europe, asking where she’d gone, John specifically showing interest in the possibility of Jo having brought back some books for them to read. As Jo entertained their questions, and embraced Mr. Laurence, she was acutely aware of the two who had not come to her embrace. Amy, and  _ Laurie.  _

She was not going to look at him. It would be easier this way, if she did not look at him. She needed to pretend like it did not matter, like she had not thought about his beauty this entire time. Like she was not longing to be held by him, not longing to touch his hand. She needed to be uncaring. She needed to do it for Amy’s sake, like Beth would have wanted her to.

Jo met Amy’s gaze, and knew immediately that she would not be getting an embrace from her younger sister. With that realization, she took a swift step back, smiling at her family as she held her bags in her hands. “It’s been a long journey, I hope you’ll forgive me if I retire for the night”, without waiting to be excused, she rushed upstairs, locking herself in her room. As she hid there, she felt like a child, afraid and alone. 

* * *

With a heavy heart, Jo forced herself to wake up. She had used her late arrival as an excuse to sleep in, but in truth, she had spent most of the morning merely lying in bed, thinking about her interaction (or lack of one) with both Laurie and Amy. She wondered what it meant. Every part of her was itching to ask, to go over and demand to know where they stood. She had always been direct, and never much cared for subtle hints or passive-aggressive wording. She wanted to know. And she was going to find out. If she was going to move on with her life, and to attempt to build a life for herself in the confines of their society - where she would be doomed to come across Amy and Laurie on a daily basis - she needed to know how it was going to work.

So, with a bit of hesitation, she got dressed, skipped breakfast and headed over to the Laurence mansion. She had no plan, but that was nothing unusual for Jo March. 

She was no fool. Amy’s coldness towards her indicated that perhaps Laurie had told her a bit more of what had happened between the two of them behind Amy’s back. She would not hold it against him. She had left him in quite a predicament, after all.

Amy was the one to open the door. She stood there, a stoic look on her pretty face, and without as much as a hello, stepped outside, closing the door after her. No doubt to keep Laurie from hearing their discussion. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Jo would not even be permitted to be in Laurie’s presence without Amy’s say-so? It did not seem like much of a life for the man, or for Jo herself. Even Amy would surely grow tired of the gatekeeping sooner or later.

“What do you want?” Amy asked, her voice as harsh as her expression.

“No ‘hello’?”

“Hello”, the blonde snapped. “ _ What do you want? _ ”

Jo could see there was no reasonable discussion to be had between the two of them. “Are you angry with me, Amy?”

“Angry?” Amy’s voice shook, indicating that she was, indeed, angry. “Tell me, Jo. If you were married, and your husband was unfaithful to you - and with your own sister, no less… would you be _ angry _ ?” 

Jo sighed. So, Laurie had told her. She felt a sting of betrayal, but in all honesty, she knew it was for the best. Or, it was if Amy and Laurie intended to make this work. Which seemed to be what Laurie wanted. It was what the selfless part of Jo wanted, too. 

“Amy, I cannot even begin to imagine how that must feel. But you yourself told me, all that time ago, that you wanted us to… to start over. To be friends.”

“That was different.”

“No, it was not,” Jo argued. She truly believed it now. Whatever anger Amy felt was justified, but she, too, was owed some rage of her own.

“You compare your confusing flurry of feelings for my husband to how I feel now?” Amy raised her eyebrows. “This must be a joke.”

“ _I_ loved him, and _you_ married him. _You_ love him, and _I_ kissed him. I think a comparison can be made.” Jo was not going to raise her voice. She was not going to get angry. Not now. Everything she had done would be undone if she grew angry enough. What a fine line she walked. She was desperate to get off it. 

“Only someone as selfish as you would compare the two,” Amy said. “I apologized for my part all that time ago, and you forgave me. Were you lying?”

“No. But it doesn’t undo what you did.”

“What about what _ you  _ did?” Amy snapped. “You  _ kissed _ my husband. _ My _ husband.” 

Jo wished Amy would stop saying it.  _ Her husband _ . It was true, but she so hated hearing it. Every time she said it, it felt like a punch in the face.

“I apologize for it. It was a mistake, and it will never happen again.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Get out of here, Jo.”

“I want to see him. Just for a moment,” Jo wanted to hear it from Laurie, to hear what he thought of all of this. And she wanted to apologize for leaving without saying anything. She knew, first-hand, how terrible it was to experience something like that. The guilt had been eating away at her for months.

“No,” Amy said simply. “I’m sorry, but no. Laurie and I have talked about this, and we agreed that it would be best if the three of us keep our distance. At least for the time being.”

“You  _ agreed _ , did you?” Jo could not imagine it, but then again, she had been away for a year. She still did not know what the status of Amy and Laurie’s relationship was. Was Amy with child? Was that why she was being so aggressive? 

“Amy, where-”, the door had opened, and Laurie was standing there, his eyes wide as he stared at the scene in front of him. Jo was taken aback, seeing him properly for the first time in a year. His hair was slightly longer, highlighting his beautiful curls and his distinct eyes. They looked so dark, then, as he looked at her. For a brief moment, he looked happy. Excited. Eager. But then, he met Amy’s gaze, and his expression hardened. Jo saw it now. Laurie had agreed to stay away from her to protect Amy’s feelings. It sounded like something that her sweet boy would do. She was not surprised that Laurie, in his guilt-ridden state, had agreed to such an ultimatum. And who was she to stop him, to get in the way of that? 

“Go back inside, Laurie.” 

To his credit, Laurie did not move. But Jo did. She stepped back, turning away without a word. She would not look back, the entire way from the Laurence house to the March home. She would not turn back. This was the path she had chosen, and it was what she was going to live with, or die trying.

* * *

Jo’s book was done. She could not believe it. All that was left now was to send it to Mr. Dashwood and to hear his thoughts and his inevitable requests for rewrites. She was ready for them, and she had her own demands as well. The waiting would be unbearable, but she knew she was lucky to even have the chance to publish a book in the first place. Sometimes, it felt like a dream. Quite a fitting contrast, since the rest of her life felt like a nightmare.

As Jo sent the pages off, her mind drifted off to Laurie once more, thinking about her promise to let him read her work. She knew it could not be anymore, and in all honesty, she was not even sure if he wanted to read it anymore. She had no idea what his stance on anything was anymore. Based on his reaction to seeing her the other day, Jo had a feeling that Laurie, much like Jo herself, had determined that the most rational thing would be to stay away, as nothing good would come out of their relationship. But that did not make it any easier.

It was getting late, and Jo was, once again, in her attic. She had sent the last few chapters off that very morning, and now found herself without anything to do. It crossed her mind to try to write something new, but she knew herself well enough to know that her mind was too preoccupied for something like that. So, she was left with nothing to do and nothing to distract her.

Jo made her way to the window, and found herself staring at the lights in the Laurence house. The light in the piano room was on once more, and Jo wondered whether Laurie was seated by the instrument. She found herself more and more eager to just rush over and talk to him, to hold him, to tell him that she missed him. But if she did that, she would be throwing all of her hard work out of the window. Her year abroad, her attempt at staying away, it would all come to nothing if she saw him again. And even more so, if she were to reach out to him, she would face the wrath of Amy. She was not afraid of her sister, but she did not want to hurt her, either. As much as the two sisters appeared to hate one another, they were still sisters, and that still counted for something. 

Jo knew she could not sleep. So, she grabbed her coat and headed down, and out of the house. She had no idea where she was going, only that she needed to get away. It was silly. She had not been able to run away from her problems in Europe, how could she run away from them now, here? What she wouldn’t give to not be in love. She had always expected it to be terrible, if she ever were to fall in love. And she had not been mistaken in the slightest. If anything, she had underestimated the terrible nature of love. Why was it so praised? It brought nothing but misery.

She walked and walked, until she found her way to where she knew she would end up. The hill on which she and Laurie had had their two most fated encounters. She chuckled, wondering how she had not even noticed that her feet had been leading her to this very spot. It was, after all, where she had gone countless times since Laurie’s departure to Europe, as she had told him. It had become her solace, as well as the grim reminder of her mistake.

Jo sat on the grass, which had taken a darker tone in the night. The only light above was the moon, and the stars scattered around here and there. Were she in a better mood, the scene could have inspired her to write a short story. Perhaps about a brave, young maiden weighing her options. Determined to leave home and live her own life, but terrified of disappointing her family. Jo wondered how she would write such a story now. She had always been proud of her independent, fiery spirit, but lately, she felt that fire had begun to die out. Day by day, the flame got smaller and smaller, to the point that Jo could scarcely feel or see it anymore. Once again, she thought of how very ironic it was, that so much of her happiness should depend on a man. 

She heard the footsteps, but did not turn. She knew who it was just from the sound of his steps, from the hesitation as he got closer to her. Jo wondered if Laurie had purposefully defied Amy’s orders to be here, or if it had simply been by chance.

Slowly, she turned her head, looking at the man as he stood a few feet away from her, hands in his pockets, looking uncertain. “I am fairly certain that you are not supposed to be here,” Jo said, unable to resist the urge to tease Laurie just a little bit on his sudden lack of independence. He deserved better than to have Amy boss him about. And Amy deserved better than to need to boss her husband around to get what she wanted. 

“So I have been told, yes,” Laurie sat next to her, only remaining so for a moment before laying down, closing his eyes. He breathed heavily, and Jo could not help but stare at him. His features were less recognizable in the dark, but he was still beautiful. But he looked almost sickly.

“Are you alright?” she found herself asked. “You look so pale.” She wanted to reach out and touch him, but chose not to. 

“You leave for a year, and then ask me such a silly question,” Laurie hummed, keeping his eyes shut. Everything about this moment reminded Jo of their last moment on this hill, and how, that time, she had been graced with a kiss. She knew such a thing was not coming this time. The air around them was filled with melancholy, regret and resentment. 

“I had no choice but to leave.”

“There is always a choice. You  _ chose _ to leave. And you  _ chose  _ not to tell me.”

Jo could hear the bitterness in his voice. “Yes. Just as you _chose_ not to tell me of your own departure, all those years ago.”

“You failing to inform me was not to get back at me for a slight from many years ago,” Laurie did not skip a beat in his response. “You didn’t tell me because you were afraid I would stop you.”

Jo smiled. The boy still knew her quite well. “You’re right. I knew we could not go on as we had.”

“And why not?”

“Because you and I would have ended up betraying Amy in a way we hadn’t done yet. In a way we never can,” finally, Laurie’s eyes opened, and they bore into her, right down to Jo’s soul. She felt something move deep within her as he stared, his look almost predatory. She wondered if his expression was mirrored in her own. 

“You’re right,” he said, his voice deep, husky. He did not move, but Jo did see his fingers twitch ever so slightly, moving in the way they always did when he was at his most nervous. 

“How are things with you and Amy?” Jo hoped to defuse the tension, to bring the topic back to what mattered, but his gaze did not move, nor did hers. 

“The same. She paints, I write my music. We don’t talk. We don’t touch each other.” 

“I thought she might be with child by now.”

“That would be very difficult,” Laurie confirmed what Jo had silently been hoping to hear; that the two of them had not been intimate. What sick joy she got out of that knowledge, even though it was none of her business. 

Jo finally tore her eyes away from his face, looking instead at his hands. Those nimble, long fingers and the rings donned on them. Once, her ring had been there, too. Now it rested on her finger instead. “You’ve been writing?”

“An opera.”

Jo was pleasantly surprised. She smiled, meeting his gaze. He looked gentler now, a soft smile on his lips. “Is that so? I would like to hear what you’ve composed.”

“I don’t know if we can do that.”

“And why not?” It was amazing how easy it had been for them to fall back into this rhythm once more, even with everything else that was happening. Even with Amy pleading with everything she had in her for the two of them to stay away from each other. 

“You and I are supposed to be staying away from each other, remember?”

“Oh, yes,” Jo nodded. She laid down next to him, looking up at the stars. She felt his fingers brush against the strands of her hair, which lay messily between them. “You could sing it for me.”

“I’m not much of a singer, Jo.”

Jo turned her head to gaze into his eyes. The two laid there, inches away from each other, both of them unable to say and do what they wanted to. It was the most beautiful kind of torture. “”You would not do it for me?”

Something hardened in Laurie’s expression, and he let out a soft sigh. Jo watched as his eyes closed once more, those long lashes against his light skin. He looked like he’d walked right out of a painting. “I would do anything for you, Jo. Which is exactly why I should not be here.” 

He sat up, running a hand through his hair, looking very disappointed with himself. “I missed you, Jo. I truly did. This year felt endless without you nearby.”

“I feel the same way.” 

“Do you, now?” Laurie glanced at her. “I wonder.”

Jo did not like the disbelief in his voice. “I went to Bologna.” 

Laurie looked at her fully now, surprise on his face. He had once mentioned Bologna as his birthplace, and he looked absolutely shocked that Jo would remember such a detail. But she remembered everything he had ever told him. 

“You did?”

“Yes. It was beautiful. Particularly the  _ Teatro _ …,” Jo sighed, the name having escaped her lips. “The-”

“ _ Teatro Comunale.” _ Laurie whispered. Jo knew exactly what significance the place held for Laurie. It was where his mother had performed, and where his parents had first met and fallen in love. If there was a place Laurie loved from his childhood, it was this very opera house. And walking inside, Jo had felt Laurie’s presence everywhere, almost as if he had been there with her.

They stared at each other, neither one saying a thing. There was nothing to be said. Jo loved Laurie, Laurie loved her. But it was pointless, and it was never going to come to anything. Just as Jo had let go of her childhood, she now had to let go of Laurie. Her childhood love; her only love. 

With one last look at him, Jo stood up, turning her gaze to the scenery around them as she began her walk down the hill, and out of Laurie’s life. There was something so beautiful, so serene about this night, it almost made it easier for them to part ways. Everything was easier in the comfort of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again, that was probably pretty shit. And with that positive note, not to self-plug, but if anyone else here is still living in the year 2016 and has a tumblr, check out mine. I post Jo/Laurie edits sometimes: https://queenmercurys.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> And also, this is where I got the idea of Bologna being the birth place of Laurie: https://marchandlaurencelittlewomen.wordpress.com/2017/02/24/beginnings-in-bologna-the-little-women-trail-1/ I quite liked the sound of it, so I went with it.


	10. i couldn't turn things around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Laurie with all my heart, and I don't think any chapter reflects that more than this one. He really is a remarkable character in my eyes, and more important to me than most other characters. And I want so badly to do him justice. 
> 
> Sorry about the delay, and thanks for the kind feedback, it really is the only reason why I'm managing to keep up with this fic. I've received so much kindness and encouragement from so many of you, and I can't thank you enough for it. I couldn't ask for a better audience.

Time passed, but the feelings remained. Laurie had made a promise to himself that he would respect Amy’s wishes and do his best to stay away from Jo, but it did not make anything easier, or better. The distance between him and Amy was growing by the minute, and Laurie’s longing to see Jo grew along with it. After their moment on their very own hill, they had not seen much of each other. Months passed, and Laurie went back to business as usual. Writing his opera, spending time with Amy, John, and his grandfather. Occasionally visiting the March house, but only ever for dinner, never for Jo. Of course, she was around, and when she was, they were perfectly cordial with each other. To the untrained eye, everything was fine. But to anyone who paid the smallest bit of attention, it was clear that not all was as it should be. Amy and Laurie never touched each other, and Jo and Laurie, who had once been so close, didn’t even look at one another.

It was only a matter of time until someone noticed, and when John Brooke sought Laurie out, clearly itching to talk about something, Laurie was fully prepared for what the man was going to say.

“Is something wrong with you and Amy?” the man got straight to the point, the look on his face filled with concern. Laurie eyed his friend, wondering why he had not confided in him before. The answer, though, was clear enough. If he told John, he would no doubt tell Meg, and he was quite certain that Amy did not want her sister to know a thing about this.

But he had been silent for months, leaving his feelings unspoken, to the point that his chest felt like it was going to burst. So, when presented with such a question, all Laurie could do was tell the truth: “We’re not happy. I don’t think we were ever happy.”

Laurie was sitting by his piano and watched with mild curiosity as John took a seat next to him, pulling up the chair Marmee had once sat on to listen to his concerns.

“Why?” It was a simple question with a simple answer. How simple it all was, when it came down to it. Laurie loved Jo. He would always love Jo. And that was the start and the end of everything.

“Do you remember when... when I asked for Jo’s hand in marriage?” Laurie still remembered the feeling of shame, his inability to look Meg or John in the eye when they had heard the news and offered their condolences. He hadn’t wanted their pity then; he did not want it now. But he could be silent no longer.

“Yes,” John spoke, his voice quiet. This was what Laurie liked about his friend so much. He was so generous with his time, so willing to be there for those that he loved. Laurie took a moment to look at him, noting how fatherhood and marriage had taken their toll on the man. He looked older, drained. But then again, so did Laurie. Perhaps there was no escaping the wicked hand of time.

“It appears that she... changed her mind, somewhere down the road.”

Realization spread across John’s face, and his mouth opened slightly as he seemed to ponder on what to say next. “She loves you?”

“Yes,” the words left his mouth before he could think on them too much. Yes, Jo loved him. He believed it now. Something about the way she had spoken about visiting Bologna had finally driven the point home to him. Jo March loved him, just as he loved her.

John sighed, once more choosing to stay quiet until he knew exactly what he wanted to say. Laurie had always felt comfortable and somewhat protected in his friend’s company. His paternal instincts had existed even before the birth of his children and had only been highlighted after the fact. “Does Amy know?”

“She knows.”

“Is that why Jo left, then? For Europe?”

“More or less,” Laurie didn’t want to take credit for it, as he knew Jo had always wanted to visit Europe, to see the world. But the timing was suspect, and he knew that Amy’s insistence on Jo’s departure had probably been the final straw.

“Oh, Laurie,” there was a hint of scolding in John’s voice, but he sounded sympathetic enough. Laurie dared to glance at his former tutor, wondering what kind of sage advice he would have for him. For a moment, he expected John to solve his life the way he had solved his math problems, or his misspelled Latin phrases. But he was a child no more, and there was no fixing this.

“I don’t know what to do,” Laurie finally admitted, his voice breaking ever so slightly. He stared at the keys of the piano, determined not to look at his friend, afraid of what kind of judgment he would find there. “I’m so unhappy.”

At those words, John placed a hand on Laurie’s shoulder, squeezing softly. Laurie appreciated the gesture, but somehow, he realized, speaking of this only made it more real, more irreversible. More painful.

“If this is the case, Laurie, you know what you must do,” John said, the practical tone back in his voice. “You must speak with Amy and tell her the truth. That you cannot go on with this marriage.”

“I can’t do that. I _can’t_. It would ruin her life. And who’s to say that, if I did, Jo would even...,” Laurie buried his head in his hands, closing his eyes tight to avoid the tears from falling. He had made a mess of his life, ruined it completely. He had never felt as small and helpless as he did now, crying like a little boy.

John was silent for a moment. “Divorce is, no doubt, a scandal that would haunt our families for the rest of our days. So, the practical man in me is telling me to urge you to keep going. To tell you that it’ll be no time at all until you and Amy are happy, and in love.” He sighed. “But, you are my friend, and I can see how miserable you are. I can see how miserable Amy is. Even Jo, to an extent. Is there really any point in continuing as you have been, if there is no way it will lead to anyone’s happiness?”

Laurie said nothing but removed his hands from his face. His eyes were blurry, and he knew he looked like a mess. “I can’t do what you’re telling me to do, John. I just can’t.”

John, too, removed his hand from Laurie’s shoulder, and turned his head a bit to get a good look at his face. “You don’t deserve to spend the rest of your days unhappy, Laurie. No one does.”

Laurie closed his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s not just about me. Like you said, it would ruin... our families.” It was quite telling, in Laurie’s mind, that he felt no more a part of the March family now than he had before marrying Amy. He had never allowed himself to fully embrace it, however hard he had tried.

“John! I didn’t know you were stopping by.” Their conversation was interrupted by Amy’s voice. Laurie kept his eyes on the keys, while John stood up, rushing over to distract Amy from Laurie’s current state.

“Oh, I was actually coming by to remind you both about the dinner at Marmee’s tonight,” he said, taking Amy’s hand in his as he began leading her towards the door.

“Why would we forget? We are bringing the dessert, after all,” Laurie heard Amy’s distant response as the two headed for the hall. Yes, the dreaded dinner. It was Thanksgiving, and the March family was planning to gather together. Laurie had tried to get out of it, but his grandfather had dismissed his excuses immediately.

While John distracted his wife, Laurie wiped his eyes, walking over to the window, taking a few, deep breaths. He opened the window and let the brisk autumn air in, the sharp wind beating against his red cheeks. In the distance, he could see Jo in the garden of the March house, setting up lanterns to light the way into the house for the evening. Her long hair was flowing in the wind, and she looked so alive, so grounded. That was the thing about Jo. She was not some ethereal being who Laurie who scarcely believe existed. She was ever present, and _real_. There was no one as real and genuine as Jo March.

“Laurie?” Laurie turned around, noticing that John was gone. Amy stood in the doorway, and she actually looked worried. He felt a pang of guilt once more.

“I’m fine,” he promised. “Is there anything I need to do for tonight?”

Amy hesitated. She walked closer to him, and with a slightly trembling hand, touched his cheek, which was still moist from the tears.

They looked at each other, and for the first time, Laurie felt that perhaps, there was an understanding. For the first time in their marriage, they were seeing each other clearly, and understanding.

But then, something changed. Amy’s expression slipped, and she removed her hand. Something shifted, and Laurie knew it was Amy’s resolve. She was remembering everything that he had just said to John, too. If they gave up now, it would mean ruin for the both of them.

“Just be ready to leave at seven, sharp,” Amy said, turning around and walking away, everything unresolved. Laurie sat back down, his mind and his heart completely torn.

* * *

When it was time to head for the March house, Amy, Laurie and his grandfather did so silently, the only one speaking up being James whenever he thought the awkward silence was getting too unbearable. Laurie was barely listening, only humming to feign interest in whatever facts his grandfather was spewing about the significance of Thanksgiving.

As they stepped into the house, Laurie smelled the delicious scent of whatever Marmee and Hannah had cooked up for the evening. He smiled as he heard the sound of Jo shouting from the attic. Meg seemed to be playing the piano, a soothing tune echoing throughout the house. As Laurie stood there, for a single moment, he allowed himself to believe that all of these years had not passed. That he was a young boy still, and the person playing the piano was their beloved Beth. That moments from now, Jo would jump down the stairs, wrap an arm around him and seat him next to her. What he wouldn’t give to turn back time.

Then, he was brought back to reality when Marmee, Mr. March and Hannah rushed into the room, carrying the various dishes and placing them on the dinner table. They no doubt spoke to him, but Laurie could hear none of it. For he was distracted by the sound of footsteps by the stairs. He spun around, and there she was. Their eyes locked, and a warmth spread over Laurie. A comfortable warmth, like sitting by the fire after a day in the cold. If there was one metaphor he would use to describe his Jo, it would be that. A warm, vibrant fireplace during a cold winter’s day.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” She said, only giving Laurie a brief look before sitting down at the table. “I’m starving!”

Laurie was not surprised. They had, after all, come to an unspoken agreement that they would try to stay away from each other and to be their best selves, because Amy did not deserve them betraying her once again. But everything was getting muddled in Laurie’s head. His promise to Amy, his devotion to Jo, John’s advice to him. Even Marmee’s thoughts on divorce. Everything was swimming around in his head, to the point that he could not say a single thing during the entire dinner. He only ate, nodded along to whatever everyone else was saying, and continued his guilt-ridden existence.

He only woke from his trance when everyone around him was getting up, heading to the living room for coffee and dessert. He stood up, stumbling a bit, trying to get his head right. He needed to at least pretend he was in a festive mood.

“Why don’t you play something for us, Laurie?” It was Jo’s voice. He met her gaze. She was sitting in the living room, not too far from the piano. They looked at each other, and Laurie knew. This was perhaps the only chance Jo would have to hear him play.

So, instead of listening to his knee-jerk reaction to refuse, he sat on the piano stool, his fingers brushing against the keys. And without a word, he started playing the very first song he’d written for his opera. It was full of melancholy, a song that reminded Laurie of the kinds of songs his mother used to sing for him in his youth. It reminded him of the first snowfall on a quiet evening, the view of Concord getting smaller and smaller as he headed off to university. The feeling of walking away from Jo after she had refused him. Everything he had ever felt came to the surface as he played, and as he did, he knew it was ridiculous he should ever do anything else.

There was a bit of Beth in his music, too. Beth, the lovely, innocent, overwhelmingly melancholic young woman gone before her time. As he played, he wondered whether she would like the song. Somehow, he had a feeling she would.

Once he was done, he realized how silent the room was. He turned around; a bit bewildered by the looks on their faces. Even Amy was smiling, like she was proud of him.

“Did you write that?” his grandfather, who was always a little bit oblivious to what was going on, asked. Something in his voice made Laurie pause. This was the first time Laurie had felt that perhaps his grandfather saw him as a man, as someone to be proud of, rather than just a youth who was a bit of a waste of space. As his grandfather looked at him, Laurie wondered whether he saw his father in him. What a strange thought. Laurie thought about his father so rarely.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m writing an opera.”

“And what a fine opera it’ll be,” John smiled, an encouraging friend as always. “Would you play another song?”

Jo had been silent, but Laurie could not continue before he at least looked at her. He turned, and the look on her face told him everything he needed to know. There were tears in her eyes, and Laurie knew she was thinking exactly what he was thinking. How Beth would have liked to hear him play.

Laurie turned back to the piano and continued. He played a few more of his songs, stopping after each one to make sure he was not boring anyone. On the contrary, everyone seemed quite captivated in his work. It was a strange feeling. As Laurie played, he realized that he had never been given this kind of praise or attention. He had never truly considered himself to be that remarkable, that filled with potential. But now, he felt it. He saw it, the future he could have as an artist. Perhaps he was indeed capable of making something worthwhile.

“Someone else should have a go,” he said after his fifth song. He stood up. “I just need a moment.” Laurie walked out of the room, taking the back exit out of the house, marching down towards the forest. Towards the post box.

He didn’t know why he had felt such a need to run away. Perhaps it was the attention, perhaps it was the pressure of it, the worry and the excitement of what was to come. His mind was racing, his newfound joy battling with his ongoing depression, leaving him in a state of limbo.

He placed his hands on the trunk of the tree with the post box, his eyes staring at it. It seemed like it had been a lifetime ago, when he had presented the girls with the key to this very same box. This musty, run-down, beaten up post box. It was a ridiculous thing to discover, but in that moment, Laurie felt a certain kinship with that box. He, too, had been beaten down and bent to a shape he no longer recognized, but _wanted to._ He wanted to be someone worthy of respect again.

He wanted to open the box, but he had misplaced the key. He chuckled bitterly, placing his forehead against the box. Perhaps he should have misplaced the key sooner, so he would never have found Jo’s letter.

“Are you trying to give the box a kiss?” Jo’s voice broke through the wind, and Laurie smiled, but did not turn.

“Perhaps. You should respect our privacy,” Laurie responded, moving away slightly, looking ahead at where Jo stood. Wild hair, over-sized jacket, freckled face. Beautiful.

“I loved your songs, Teddy,” Jo said, her voice soft, gentler. She was giving him genuine feedback, free of any sarcasm or judgment.

“Oh,” Laurie looked at his shoes. “Not too boring?”

“No. It was...”, Jo frowned, searching for the words. “It felt familiar.”

Laurie looked up. “I didn’t steal it.”

“I don’t mean that,” Jo rolled her eyes, an amused smile on her face. “No, I’m not saying it _sounded_ familiar. It _felt_ familiar. It felt like you. Like Beth. Like Concord.” She hesitated. “Like us.”

Laurie’s expression softened. “That is how I intended it.”

“What is the opera about?” Jo asked curiously, stepping a bit closer. They were still far enough, but every bit of closeness made Laurie feel more alive, more present, more grounded.

“A young, flawed man who makes a terrible mistake,” Laurie stated, keeping it as vague as possible. “And lives with it for the rest of his days.”

Jo frowned. He could see her mind racing. “Teddy...”

“It’s not about us.” He was telling the truth, it was not. It was about a man who inadvertently caused the death of his beloved and spent the rest of his life trying to find some kind of way to bring her back, never succeeding. But even so...

Jo nodded. “I am so very proud of you, you know. I am.”

Hearing it from her meant more than hearing it from anyone else. Laurie just stood there, uncertain of what to say. He simply nodded, hoping that she would know what he was thinking without him needing to put it to words. He hoped she knew that he valued her opinion above all else.

“I have something for you,” Laurie looked up, watching as Jo put her hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out a small book with a red cover. He stared at it, realizing immediately what it was.

“It’s done?” he asked. He could not believe he had not been there for her, had not been there to hold her hand as it was published. But then again, Jo had never needed him or anyone else to hold her hand.

“An early copy. It should become available shortly before Christmas,” Jo smiled. She walked the rest of the way over to him, placing the book in his hands. “Let it be our secret. No one else is to read it before it’s out.”

“Our secret,” Laurie agreed, meeting her gaze. Her big, beautiful blue eyes, staring back at his. He wanted so very desperately to reach out to touch her. But he could not. He simply could not.

“I can’t wait to read it,” he said, slipping the book in his own pocket. “I am incredibly proud of you as well. Please know that. You are unlike any other, Josephine March.”

“Oh, Teddy,” Jo stifled a sigh, leaning over and wrapping her arms around him, holding him almost too tightly. But he hugged her back, letting himself, momentarily, get caught up in the sensation of holding the love of his life after so many months. The feeling of their kiss still haunted him, and it took all his strength to not cup her face and kiss her again.

They stood there, Laurie with his eyes closed, breathing in the scent of her. A mixture of burnt ashes, ink and the cinnamon from the apple pie they had just eaten. Laurie decided there was no scent he loved more.

“Jo...,” he whispered, his hands touching the strands of her hair. She was not letting go, her arms wrapped around him tightly, her face pressed against his neck.

“I love you,” Jo whispered. Three simple words, but still, hearing them, even if not for the first time, felt like a dream. But as good a dream it was, he did not know what to say back. He could sense the longing in her words, in her touch. In the way her face remained pressed against his neck.

“You must know that I love you, too. If nothing else, know that,” he finally whispered back, holding her closer for a few more seconds. Just a few more.

As if reading his thoughts, Jo pulled back. As he examined her face, he saw the threat of tears. An impulse almost took over him. An impulse to ask her if she would have him, were he and Amy to separate. But he could not put those thoughts into words. He could not make them real. So, he remained silent as the two of them walked back up to the house, neither one able to remedy the growing distance between them. And just like that, Laurie’s excitement for his creative future disappeared, and the melancholic thoughts returned. Almost like a fire being snuffed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if they really celebrated Thanksgiving in the 1800s (*confused in European*).


	11. you didn't even hear me out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shit I just reread this chapter and it's absolutely potato quality. Definitely the worst one I've written so far, so.... yikes. Sorry. I will try to do better next time.*
> 
> It may not seem like a lot for expert AO3 writers, but this is definitely the longest I've ever been able to go on with writing and publishing a fic. I always tend to get discouraged, distracted or just otherwise busy. But thanks to you guys, I'm determined to keep going with this fic till the end, and I hope that what I have planned is gonna live up to your expectations! Thank you, once again. I don't take any feedback or praise for granted.
> 
> Just out of curiosity, if anyone is able to answer, do you guys generally prefer the Jo POV chapters, or the Laurie ones? Whatever you say or don't say won't affect my structure, I'm genuinely just interested to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> Also, I kind of made my own interpretations of what Jo's version of the Little Women book really was. I don't think it was ever intended to be identical to Alcott's actual book, but even if it was, I don't care. I took creative liberties. I'm treating Little Women and Good Wives as a single entity here, because that's the way they were treated in the film, and just for convivence's sake.

Jo March, the published author of her very own book. It sounded surreal to even think about it, let alone put it into words. Even with her earlier short stories, Jo had never felt this sense of validation, this sense of gratification when it came to her work. She was now the owner and creator of a full-length novel, and she had even managed to negotiate 6,6 percent of the profits for herself. Mr. Dashwood had been incredibly reluctant, but Jo had been determined. If she was going to make compromises regarding the story of her book, she at least had to make some money off of it.

When it was all said and done, she found she regretted none of it. It did not matter if a fictional version of herself ended up married to a professor. It did not matter if, in her story, Amy and Laurie ended up happy, and with child. It was just a book, a piece of fiction. Besides, what would the alternative have been? Writing the truth? The truth was something she would never be able to put down on paper, lest she wished to ruin the reputation of both herself and her family.

“Jo?” Thanks to her ever-racing mind, Jo had almost forgotten where she had been. She was sitting in John and Meg’s house, the two of them sitting by the window, drinking hot chocolate and keeping an eye on the children. The snow was falling outside, creating an almost magical winter wonderland-esque atmosphere around the area. It was Christmas, and everyone was fully embracing the holiday cheer.

Well, everyone except Jo. She had claimed her lack of free time as the reason for her absence, and it was a good excuse to use. _Little Women_ had been published only a day ago, and Jo had been largely involved in the process. Mr. Dashwood had cursed her perfectionism, but the man failed to realize that it was not a matter of being a perfectionist. This book was Jo’s greatest creation, her true love. The idea that she would not feel protective over it was absolutely ridiculous.

“Jo?” Meg’s voice pierced through the silence again, and Jo finally looked up. Her sister was staring at her, a curious expression on her face. She had looked this way since Jo had entered, and it had not taken much for Jo to realize that Meg knew something she did not know her elder sister knew. Perhaps Amy had come in and had a word with her about their situation with Laurie. If that was the case, why was Meg not scolding her yet?

“I’m sorry”, Jo smiled apologetically. “Can’t seem to quiet my mind.”

“I can see that,” Meg murmured, looking down at the book in her hands. Jo had personally delivered a copy for Meg and John to read and had given one to Marmee and Father as well. Amy, however, had been left without a copy. Jo doubted she would want to read the book anyway. “I asked you if Mr. Dashwood has been in contact.”

“Not since we struck the deal and all that business,” Jo shrugged. “I think the poor man wants a break from me. I did pester him quite a bit.”

“As you should, this is your book,” Meg smiled, stroking the cover with her finger. “It’s beautiful, Jo. I can’t believe you did it.”

“You can’t?”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” the older March sister laughed, and for a split second, Jo caught herself in a moment of melancholy. The distance between Jo and Meg had begun growing the day Meg had married John and had only gotten worse and worse as the years had gone by. Of course, Jo understood it. She was no longer a teenager and would not hold it against Meg that she had decided to make a life for herself. But a part of her longed for things to be the way they had been, when Meg had been her constant companion, and closest confidant. Now, the air between them was filled with the subtle awkwardness of catching up with someone who used to mean the world to you, but whom you’d not seen in a long time. This was not even the case for Meg and Jo, as they saw each other on a semi-regular basis. But their connection was gone, and Jo had let it go, just putting it in a pile of things from her childhood that she’d had to watch wither away.

“It wasn’t easy, but Beth helped,” Jo said, smiling sadly. Meg returned her smile, and Jo did not have to ask to know that her sister missed their little angel just as much as she did. Beth had been the heart and soul of their family. Perhaps that was why everything felt so hollow, now. If Beth had been alive, would Jo had been able to forgive Amy easier, let go of Laurie without so much resistance?

“Sweet Beth,” Meg whispered, the words barely audible. She glanced at Demi and Daisy, who were playing with some dolls that Jo had brought for them. They sat on the floor, milk and cookies by their side, completely oblivious to the conversation happening five feet away from them. The sweet ignorance of a child was something Jo often marveled at. Had she been this naive once?

“What’s troubling you?” Jo wasn’t sure why she asked, but she could not stop herself any longer. She could tell from the reserved way Meg was facing her, and the subtle looks she was giving her that something was indeed wrong. And if Amy had gossiped about their feud, she wanted to know as soon as possible.

“I shouldn’t say.”

So, she was right. “You _should_ say,” Jo argued. “I would prefer you told me, rather than just ogle at me with that worried look that you do,” Jo gestured at her face, causing Meg to smile.

“Oh, alright,” Meg lowered her voice, leaning a bit closer to make sure the children did not hear. So, Meg knew Jo’s dirty little secret. “Around Thanksgiving, John went to see Laurie, and they talked about some things.”

Jo frowned. So, Amy had not been the one to talk. Jo should have known better. Amy would not want anyone knowing her shame. She merely nodded, waiting for Meg to continue.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with Laurie?” Meg whispered, concern in her big, brown eyes. “I would have helped you, somehow.”

“How could you have helped me?” Jo whispered back. “No one can help me. It’s my own fault.” She didn’t enjoy talking about this, but if Meg already knew, it was better to get the facts straight than to have her imagine the worst.

“It’s not your fault you took longer than some to figure out your heart,” Meg argued, taking Jo’s hand in hers, squeezing gently. Meg’s wedding ring brushed against the ring Jo and Laurie shared. How ironic. “But dear Jo, Laurie’s...”

“I know,” Jo did not need another person telling her that Laurie was out of her reach. She was painfully aware of it and lived with the fact every day of her life. “Trust me, I know. We haven’t done anything.” She could not speak of the kiss. If she did not speak of it, it remained only theirs, her and Laurie’s.

Meg shook her head. “Of course not, I know you wouldn’t”, with all of her wisdom, Meg could be so terribly gullible sometimes. Jo wondered if that was why she had walked into the life she had walked into. Or, if she had genuinely wanted it. The marriage, the house, the children. Even now, Jo could barely see the appeal. “But I think you and Amy should make amends.”

“Oh, Meg,” Jo pulled her hand back, crossing her arms, leaning against the chair, glaring. She was aware of how much her mannerisms resembled those of a teenager being scolded. “I have nothing to say to Amy, and she has nothing to say to me.”

“She’s our sister, Jo! She loves you, no matter what she says,” Meg raised her voice a bit, but Demi and Daisy remained oblivious.

“She didn’t love me enough to not marry Teddy, did she?” The words sounded harsh, bitter, sour. As soon as they left her mouth, Jo wished she had not said them. How selfish she could be sometimes.

Meg sighed, a knowing look on her face. “What other choice do you have?” she asked. “What other way do you see out of this?”

For some reason, Meg’s question sounded genuine, as if she was truly asking Jo what other alternatives there were. Well, there was the obvious one, wasn’t there. Divorce. The dreaded, scandal-inducing practice so few couples went through, because they knew it would result in the family’s ruin. She could not even put it into words. It was not her suggestion to make.

“To never speak to her again.”

“But that would mean never seeing Laurie again, and I know you don’t want that,” Meg made a good point.

“I can’t be his friend, Meg. We’ve tried, and... _we can’t_.”

Meg looked frustrated, but not nearly as frustrated as Jo felt. The two did not say much more, and eventually, the topic shifted back to more casual things. Christmas. The novel. Demi and Daisy’s education. And Jo’s mind raced once more.

* * *

Christmastime was the most difficult time for Jo. Somehow, it was never as difficult to not think about Beth as it was during this time. Beth had always been so happy around the holidays, absolutely enchanted by the snow, relishing in the fact that the whole family was able to spend more time together as usual. And now, Christmas felt cold, incomplete. Walking into the March house at Christmas was like stepping into a room with the furniture completely replaced, all familiar things gone, only to be traded with cheaper replicas.

It was not for the lack of trying, though. Jo knew Marmee and Father tried their hardest during the holidays, and Christmas was the biggest indicator. They, along with Hannah, slaved away in the kitchen for hours. Father put on his usual cheerful shenanigans and amplified them. As if with the illusion that, the louder the laughs, the harder it would be to miss their Beth. But Jo was not fooled.

She stayed in her attic for as long as possible, dreading the prospect of going downstairs. Thanksgiving dinner had gone without incident, but that had not made the ordeal of watching Laurie and Amy together any less difficult to bear.

Jo looked at herself in the small mirror she had propped up against the attic wall and frowned. She had never been very bothered by her appearance. She saw no reason to worry about the way she looked, she never had. She touched her freckled cheek, remembering the words of the 12-year old Amy, urging her to try to be pretty.

Though Jo had never put much thought into her looks, she found now that she _did_ think she was beautiful. Her hair, her eyes, her high cheekbones, they all worked together to form the person that was so very authentically _her_. She was Josephine March, the published author. It did not matter if she did not dress in the latest styles or forgot to wash the ink off her fingers on most days. She was beautiful, and even if she could, she would not change a thing.

The realization came over her suddenly and surprisingly. She wasn’t sure what had even brought it on. Perhaps it had been Marmee’s remark of how well the color red suited her, or perhaps it had come with her ever-growing sense of self-awareness. When she had been a teenager, Jo had always thought she knew everything. Now that she was an adult, she knew that she in fact did know very little. But she did know herself. And despite her mistakes, despite the harsh critiques of Amy, Friedrich, or the late Aunt March, she was proud of who she was.

A small smile formed on Jo’s lips, and she felt a strange sensation take over her. It was that kind of momentary reprieve: that despite everything that was happening right now, she would be alright. Without Laurie, and without Beth. She was going to be alright.

Her moment of clarity left as soon as it had arrived. Footsteps brought her back from her trance, and she turned to face Amy, who was standing by the top of the stairs, wearing a lovely gown in a deep shade of blue. “Marmee says that dinner is ready.”

“Alright,” Jo nodded, knowing that that was not going to be all of it. It was never all of it with Amy. But when the blonde said nothing more, she added: “Merry Christmas, Amy.”

“Merry Christmas,” Amy hesitated. “I hope you don’t mind. Laurie allowed me to read your book.” That reminded Jo that she was yet to hear Laurie’s feedback on her book. She had not had a chance to be alone with the man since Thanksgiving.

“Oh.”

“I liked it,” Amy offered, and Jo registered how her mannerisms were less guarded, more apologetic. She was acting more the way she had done that day when she and Laurie had returned to Concord, to deliver the second worst set of news Jo had ever heard in her life.

“You did?” And then Jo realized it. Of course. In her book, Amy and Laurie have their happy ending, child and all. Did Amy consider her inclusion of that in the book as some kind of blessing?

“It just made me realize how much I miss her,” Amy’s voice broke, and Jo found her walls falling down once more. So, it was not about Laurie. For once, it was not about Laurie. It was Beth.

Jo walked over to Amy with hesitant steps, wrapping her arms around her younger sister. Amy hugged her back, and to her surprise, Jo could feel Amy cry against her shoulder. What a strange thing it was, to comfort someone who had almost become your mortal enemy in the past months. But how could she stay angry when it was about something as meaningful as this? Their sadness over Beth’s death was their uniting force, the one thing that they could still bond over. And for that moment, Jo let it be.

* * *

Thanks to Amy’s moment of vulnerability, Jo felt less guarded when walking down the stairs to join the rest of her family for the dinner. Of course, Laurie was there, and they locked eyes, but only for a moment. Jo was almost becoming content with the idea of only being able to exchange subtle looks with the love of her life for as long as she lived.

Dinner went on much like most dinners went. Jo participated in the conversation now and again, even daring to speak to Laurie enough to ask him to pass the potatoes. Father told his jokes, and everyone laughed. Yes, the laughs sounded louder, more forceful, as if they were trying to replace an ever-consistent silence. That silence was Beth, and try as they might, they could never replace her absence. But, as Jo sat there, she realized that perhaps that was alright. Not everything needed to be as it had been, no matter how much she wished it. Beth was gone, and if she was not going to come to terms with it now, when was she going to?

With that thought, she looked at Laurie. Her beautiful, sad Laurie. She had sensed his despair, his sadness when he had played the piano at Thanksgiving, bearing his heart out to them. Would he be able to find peace with Amy? Jo was not sure. But divorce was out of the question. For all her bad traits, Amy did not deserve such embarrassment. Perhaps this was the way it was meant to be.

Jo felt an invisible fist opening somewhere in her mind, slowly, but with great determination. She would let Laurie go, once and for all. This back and forth that they were doing was only hurting all of them, and it would eventually amount to nothing. Meg’s words had brought that reality to the surface. What alternative was there? Nothing. So, she needed to unclench that fist, one finger at a time, and let go. _Just let go._

* * *

“Jo, a word?” Dinner was over, and everyone was scattered around the March house, moving with the groggy excitement of any late-night event. But Laurie had made his way to Jo, who was standing by the back door, on her way out. She had perhaps had a bit too much to drink and wanted to clear her head in the cold winter air.

“If you have your coat on you,” Jo smiled, opening the door and walking out, not waiting for Laurie to catch up. But of course, he did, his long legs carrying him straight to her within seconds. They walked silently for a bit, past the woods, towards a nearby bridge. Jo was hoping to catch a glimpse of snowflakes falling into the black unknown that was the not-yet-frozen river.

“Well?” Jo asked. Their last conversation had been so brief, so vulnerable, that Jo scarcely had any idea what to say now. That was the case for them most of the time. They always went right back to square one.

“I finished your book,” Laurie said, his tone light. He, too, sounded like he’d perhaps had a few too many glasses of the dinner wines. Well, it was Christmas, after all.

“And your verdict it...?” Jo spun around, looking at him eagerly. She had been waiting for his feedback for the better part of a month.

“You are a brilliant writer,” Laurie said, a soft smile on his face. His hands were in his pockets, and he was shivering a bit in the cold. “I think it’s probably the best thing I have ever read.”

“A lie, but a kind one,” Jo chuckled, turning around and rushing the rest of the way to the bridge, landing by the railing, propped by her elbows, looking down into the dark abyss.

“It’s _not_ a lie, and I would like it very much if you did not call me a liar,” Laurie said, his voice playful. This was what Jo liked best about the two of them. They could always joke around each other, no matter what. “I’m sure Beth would have loved it.” These words were kinder, gentler.

Jo didn’t look away from the depths of the river but smiled. “Thank you.”

Silence fell once more, and Jo knew what was coming next. “So, Amy and I lived happily ever after, then?”

Jo shifted, shrugging. “The audience loves a happy ending.”

“Mm.” Laurie joined her by the railing, tossing a small rock he’d grabbed, watching it disappear into the water. “And you, living out the rest of your days a professor’s wife?”

“You make the word ‘professor’ sound like a curse.”

“I’m only jealous, anyone can see that,” Laurie said dismissively. “I’m sure he’s a better man than I could ever be.”

There was that sadness again, that shame and worry that Laurie was not being the man he ought to be. Jo wished she could ease his worries, but she knew there was no way to stop a person from thinking they were less than what they actually were. It was a battle everyone had to fight for themselves.

“I don’t think that, and you _know_ I don’t think that, Teddy,” she said matter-of-factly. With every word she spoke, she tried to make herself get to the point she wanted to make. All she had to say was: “ _This thing between us is over. I wish you and Amy all the best_.” But the words did not come out. The fist would not unclench.

“Jo, I’ve been thinking...,” Laurie’s voice came out with great hesitation, and once again, Jo could tell exactly what he was going to say. She looked at him, her heart racing in her chest. From the nervous look on his face to the way he held himself, Jo could tell he was going to bring up the very concept Jo had rejected from the start. _Divorce._

She had to act fast.

“I do believe what I wrote, though, for you. And Amy,” she said, interrupting the man before he could say anything more.

Laurie paused, frowning. “What?”

“You two can be happy. I truly believe it. She loves you, and I know you care for her.”

Laurie looked bewildered, and Jo could understand it. Only a month ago, she had spoken words of complete love and devotion to him. But he had to realize, no matter how much she loved him, she knew this was never going to result in anything. It was nothing.

“Jo, stop,” Laurie shook his head, taking a step closer, but Jo stopped him in return, grabbing his hands and smiling.

“I love you. But this...”, she squeezed his hand. “doesn’t have a future. Amy is your future. Would you not like to be a father?”

Laurie sighed, trying once more to get a word in, but Jo continued:

“Even if you were not married to Amy, I could never be a mother. I could never give you what you want.” How ridiculous she was. Laurie had never expressed in any certain terms that he wanted to be a father. But it was an opportunity, and she used it. “It truly is better this way.”

Laurie looked like he was going to fight her but gave up. It wasn’t because he believed her words, but because he felt that she believed them. And Jo had to make him believe it. She would never, ever be the reason her sister’s marriage ended in a divorce. She had never let herself worry about it before, but now, now that she could see it in front of her as a possible escape, she had to reject it. No matter how much she loved Laurie, she would not be that selfish.

Laurie let go, taking a step back, his hands in his pockets once more. He smiled, and there was a certain determination in his eyes that Jo could not quite place. “Merry Christmas, Jo.”

Jo, too shocked to respond, watched Laurie walk away from her for what felt like the hundredth time, leaving the woman standing there. The fist had been unclenched, and she had done the unthinkable. Whatever came next, she would simply have to learn to live with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the moment in the chapter where Jo has that revelation of self-love *might* come out of nowhere, but I absolutely needed to keep it in. I've always felt that Jo is a great example of a female character who is unapologetically herself, and loves every part of who she is. This year I, too, have come to love everything about myself, and I think self-love is just so important, and should be promoted whenever possible. So, I don't know, I just wanted to give Jo that moment of quiet to reflect on who she is, and what it means to her. 
> 
> And to anyone who is worried we're gonna go back and do the whole cycle of "they're denying their feelings" thing again, we're not. I got this, I promise.


	12. second, third, and hundredth chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I'm hit with the "you have to use so many metaphors and describe everything" bug but that did not happen today. This chapter feels very bare-boned. But I already rewrote it like three times and I was unhappy each time, so, A for effort, I guess. 
> 
> Listen, I know you might think Jo's hair in the film is brown. And that's fine if you do. But I see what I want and I say her hair is dark strawberry blonde and that's that on that.

“I read Jo’s book,” it was lunchtime on the day of the Christmas party, and Laurie had been preoccupied with his own writing when Amy had walked into the piano room, holding up the book Jo had given to him. He hadn’t exactly handed it to Amy for her to read, but he hadn’t hidden it either. So, when she’d asked to read it, he couldn’t really refuse. But he expected it to simply be something left unspoken between the two of them. Just another untouchable topic.

Laurie looked at her, taking in her expression. She didn’t look angry, exactly, but she did look like a difficult decision was weighing on her mind. He didn’t say anything, because he knew that whatever she wanted to get out, she would. Amy was nothing if not outspoken.

“She is still in love with you, isn’t she?” Laurie was surprised about the question. Laurie was now, more than ever, sure of Jo’s feelings for him. But as the thought crossed his mind, he realized that Amy did not know what he knew. She had not been there during their moments alone and had not heard her whisper those very three words to his ear not too long ago. Perhaps Amy had been hoping Jo would grow out of love with him. Laurie had no doubts that it was exactly what Jo herself had hoped for, too.

He just stared, his mouth half-open, trying to think of the right words. He never knew how to approach this topic with Amy. “What... what makes you say that?”

“Just the way she wrote you,” Amy murmured, glancing at the book that she was gripping so hard that her knuckles had turned white. “I may not be a writer, but I can recognize that much.”

Laurie remained silent.

“Answer the question, please.”

“Yes, she is still in love with me,” Laurie whispered, and he watched with immense guilt as the words hit home, and as Amy, finally, seemed to be coming to terms with the reality of the situation. “I’m so sorry.”

Amy stood there for a moment, the book still tightly in her grasp. And then, she said the words Laurie had never expected to hear: “I think... I’ve had enough.”

Laurie tried to speak, tried to get a word in, but Amy simply lifted her hand and continued: “I’m tired of seeing you pining after my sister. I spent my teenage years doing exactly that, wondering what was so wrong with me that you never even looked at me. I refuse to spend the rest of my life wondering the same thing. I don’t deserve that.” She took a breath. “And I suppose you don’t deserve to be unhappy, either, Laurie. Despite everything you’ve done.”

Laurie stood up with shaky legs, walking over to his wife, the wife he had failed from the moment he had married her. He grabbed her hands in his, the book falling onto the floor between them. “What are you saying?” he whispered, his heart racing in his chest. He hated the fact that part of him was happy to hear these words, especially knowing how much pain they must have been causing Amy.

“I don’t know,” Amy whispered. “I don’t know what we can do, but... I don’t want _this_ anymore. I don’t want you if you don’t want me back. I thought... for so long, I thought that things could change, but I see that’s not going to happen,” she chuckled dryly. She pulled her hands back, wiping the tears that had formed around her eyes.

“I did love you, Laurie. I wish you had loved me back.”

The use of the past tense stung, but Laurie knew it was only fair. He had hurt Amy so many times, in so many ways. And now, he had backed both of them into a corner. “I do love you, Amy. Just not... not the way I should.”

He felt the irony in his words. It was almost exactly what Jo had said to him, once upon a time. She had insisted that she could never love him, that she would never love him. And here they were, now. Was he being too hasty now? What if he just gave himself a few years, like Jo had done? Would he grow to love Amy?

But he knew it was different. For him, it had always been Jo. Perhaps he was fickle, as Jo said, but he had only ever loved one woman. And that would never change, so long as he lived.

“We don’t have time to talk about this now,” Amy muttered, pulling away. “Just try to act normal tonight, please? I don’t want to ruin Christmas for anyone.”

Laurie grabbed her hand one last time, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “The fault was never with you, Amy. Please know that.”

Amy sighed heavily. She looked so drained. “And Laurie, please know that you telling me this doesn’t make _anything_ better even in the slightest,” she turned away, heading upstairs, no doubt to get ready for the party. Laurie was left standing there, staring down at the book.

* * *

There were times when Laurie forgot what a stubborn person Jo could be. But following the Christmas dinner, he had been reminded of just _how_ infuriating the woman could be now and again. He had not started the evening with the intention of telling her about his planned split with Amy, but the time had seemed right. And then, of course, Jo being Jo, she had sensed that the conversation was turning serious, and had pulled away once more.

Her arguments had been just as ridiculous as they had been the first time the two of them had argued over the state of Laurie’s feelings. The thought of being a father had not crossed his mind in a long time, so why on earth should that be the first time Jo used as an excuse to push him away?

Part of him, the paranoid, insecure part, worried that it was just an excuse to reject him because she did not truly want him after all. But in the past year or so, Laurie had come to know Jo in a way he had not done in his youth. She could be vulnerable and unsure, just like everyone else. The myth of Jo March, the unbreakable, independent heroine was gone, to be replaced with someone human, someone he could indeed see himself spending the rest of his life with. Now, he just had to convince her that it was worth fighting for.

“We could simply separate in private,” Laurie offered. He and Amy were in the dining room, behind locked doors, trying their best to sort out the mess that they had made. Laurie was continuously surprised at Amy’s serenity and patience and was half-expecting her to jump up and take back everything she’d said any second now.

“And what? You and Jo live happily ever after, and I end up alone?” Amy scoffed. “If you and I remained linked in the public eye, I will never have a chance of finding someone who actually loves me.”

Laurie knew she had a point. But the alternative was so, so drastic. “You want a divorce, then?”

“What choice do we have?” Amy asked, the question Laurie had been asking himself for a long, long time. This had been coming for months now, but somehow, he was no more prepared for it than he had when the thought had first crossed his mind.

“It would ruin us,” Laurie whispered. “It would ruin _you_.”

“ _You_ ruined me,” Amy countered. And there it was, the fire in her eyes. “God, Laurie, how can you just sit there, pretending like there’s a sensible way out of this? What do you think, do you think that as long as you and Jo are discreet, no one would ever find out? Do you think _any of us_ would be happy in that kind of an arrangement? Who do you take me for?”

“I’m trying to do the best that I can, Amy!” Laurie snapped, glaring back at her from across the table. “I have apologized profusely. I know that I ruined your life. I know, I know. I understand! I should never have...”, he paused. He honestly didn’t even know where his mistakes had begun at this point.

Amy shook her head. “An apology is not going to fix this. No matter what we do, I’m ruined. And if word gets out, Jo is ruined, too.”

It was something Laurie had not really considered, but it was true. Jo would have to live with the reputation of a homewrecker for the rest of her life.

“And where is Jo, anyway?” Amy continued, staring out the window, refusing to look Laurie in the eye. “She is the mastermind behind all of this, after all.”

“She has nothing to do with this. This is about you and me.”

“This has _never_ been about you and me.” Amy turned back, her eyes meeting his. “Never. From the moment you and I met, it has been about Jo, and no one but Jo.” She looked like she was about to cry again, but kept her composure, clearing her throat. “Of course you wouldn’t see the severity of the situation. You’re a man. No matter what happens, you will survive this.”

Laurie couldn’t exactly argue with her. He knew that his status as a wealthy man was much better than anything Amy and Jo had for themselves. “If I could change that, I would.” He felt so pathetic, spewing out these spineless words, one apology after another.

“Well, you can’t.” Amy stood up. “Whatever happens, I am telling you right now, I’m not going to be the neglected wife who has to sit by and watch you find happiness with someone else. I refuse to be that person. Divorce or no, it is your job to figure out a way out of this. I wash my hands of this.” Without another word, Amy stormed out, slamming the doors shut behind her. Amy was right. Laurie had gotten them in this mess, it was his job to get them out of it.

* * *

What a strange sensation it was, to feel both incredibly guilty and incredibly relieved to be done with this charade. Though Laurie had not gone into the marriage hoping it would fail, it had become clear rather quickly that he and Amy were not meant to be. As much as it hurt him to see her suffer, he knew that it would ultimately be for the best. This way, Amy could one day find her own happiness, away from him and the pain he had caused her. Or, at least that was what Laurie kept telling himself.

He had decided to spend the rest of the day outdoors, going on a long walk, successfully ruining his shoes in the snow. His mind was racing with conflicting thoughts. He thought about Amy and the hurt look on her face before she’d stormed out. He thought about Jo and the way she had rejected him the night before. He was trying to think of ways that he and Amy could separate without it ruining either one of their lives. He wondered if Jo would even have him anymore, when all of this was said and done.

Laurie was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he completely missed the body he slammed into, causing both of them to fall to the ground. Finally, he registered where he was. It was the bottom of the very hill he and Jo always seemed to go to on their fated meetings. And the person he had bumped into was none other than Jo. Someone might call it fate, but Laurie knew Jo liked to visit the area almost on a daily basis. Perhaps, subconsciously, he had wanted to see her.

He was once again struck by her beauty. The sun was setting, and the last rays were reflecting on her strawberry blonde hair. Her freckles were more visible than ever against her pale skin, and her eyes were practically piercing through his soul.

“Teddy,” she finally spoke. They still sat on the ground; their legs tangled. “Watch where you’re going next time, will you?”

“I could say the same to you, Miss Josephine,” Laurie smirked, earning a glare from Jo. “I was only minding my business, and you appeared in my way, like magic.”

Jo scoffed, but she was smiling. She stood up, extending her hand for Laurie, which he took. As they stood, facing each other, Laurie realized how right their decision had been. Amy did not deserve to be strung along. And he was never going to feel for anyone what he felt for Jo.

“Hello,” he whispered.

“Hi,” Jo looked puzzled. Laurie could tell she was a bit more guarded than before. As if she was remembering her ridiculous words from the night before. She was remembering that she had, once again, let him go. What a futile thing that had been. “What are you smiling at?”

Laurie took a breath, throwing all caution to the wind. He placed his hands on Jo’s cheeks and kissed her, taking her entirely by surprise. He could feel her jolt against his touch, before registering the act and relaxing. How Laurie had missed kissing her. No kiss in his life had felt as right as their first one, and the second one was not disappointing. He felt Jo’s hands tangle in his hair, and he slowly moved his own, placing them on her waist, pulling her to him.

The kiss was over far too soon for Laurie’s liking. Jo pulled away, shoving Laurie off as if she had not just been kissing him back. “Teddy, what on earth? _Amy_!”

“Amy and I are separating,” Laurie said, quick to assure her. “It’s over.”

Jo looked uncertain, even as her mind seemed to register the words. She looked concerned more than overjoyed. “No, you can’t divorce. I won’t let myself be the reason Amy’s reputation is ruined.”

“I don’t know if it’ll be divorce, but I do know that we are not together anymore.” He sighed. “We haven’t been together in a long time. But it was only yesterday that Amy spoke the words.”

“She is okay with this?” Jo gestured between them, shaking her head in disbelief. “Not the Amy I know.”

“Well, I...,” Laurie realized that perhaps he had acted with too much haste. “We haven’t really...”

“Oh, Teddy,” Jo groaned, burying her head in her hands. Laurie wondered if it had been a mistake. But he was tired of pretending like he didn’t love Jo, like he didn’t want to touch her. And now that he finally had the chance again, he had taken it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just don’t want you to give up on us.”

Jo blushed a bit, staring at her feet. “You’re referring to my words yesterday, I suppose.”

“I don’t know _what_ came over you, Jo, but everything you said was completely, entirely wrong. I have never disagreed with anyone more than I did with you last night,” Laurie said, still frustrated with himself, with Jo, and even with Amy. Why was everything so complicated. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?!”

“Hide behind some pathetic excuse as a way to push me further from you,” Laurie stepped closer once more, touching her cheek with his hand, his thumb brushing against her lower lip. “First it was that I would not approve of your scribblings. You were wrong. Now it’s that I could not be content without children. You’re wrong again. I don’t care about that. _I love you.”_

“But Teddy- _”_

“Jo, do us both a favor and only speak if you truly do not want me. If you have really changed your mind and no longer love me, I will leave here right now and never look back. But if you _do_ love me, don’t waste our precious time on lies.” Laurie stared hard at her, waiting for even the smallest hint that she did not want this, that she did not feel as drawn to him as he did to her. But he couldn’t find it. Jo was looking at him with the same love and adoration he had seen for a long time, now. So, she had been lying, just as he had expected.

They stood there silently for the better part of thirty seconds before Jo finally spoke, a small smile on her lips: “Am I ever allowed to speak again?”

Laurie rolled his eyes, and on impulse, pressed their lips together once more, delighted in the way Jo leaned against his touch, not pulling away, but pulling him closer. This felt like a dream.

“Wait!” Just as Laurie was about to deepen the kiss, Jo pulled back once again, their lips still only inches away, but enough to be able to get the words out. “We can’t do this, not until you and Amy make a decision on what you’re going to do.”

“We already know. We’re separating,” Laurie knew it was an inadequate answer.

“I have to talk to her, Laurie,” Jo pulled back as he was about to connect their mouths once again. “I have to make amends.”

“I think you and I are the last two people she wants to see right now.”

“All the more reason.” Jo stroked his face, her fingers tracing his cheek. She looked at him with such love in her eyes that for a moment, Laurie was taken aback. Jo loved him, and now, they were finally going to be able to be together. One way or another, they were free to be together.

“Jo...”

“She deserves an apology, even if she doesn’t want one,” Jo said sharply, looking at him pointedly. “And you and I have to keep our hands to ourselves, at least for now.”

Laurie knew she was right. With great difficulty, he removed his hands, placing them in his pockets instead to ensure he wouldn’t stray. The only hand that remained was Jo’s, still touching his face. She looked deep in thought, as if she was not even aware of what she’d just said.

“That means you, too,” Laurie murmured, and finally, Jo pulled her hands back, blushing once more. The red on her cheeks made her look even more stunning than she already did, the cold winter sun still radiating off her hair and skin. Winter truly was her season.

“We have waited this long,” Jo said. “We can wait a bit longer still.”

Laurie owed Amy at least some kind of self-restraint. So, without a word, he took a step back. Once again, the strange sensation took over him. He was both regretful of his mistakes and his loss of morals, but at the same time, he was now happier than he had been in a long time. That had to count for something.

“Until next time, Miss March,” he did a mock bow, earning a laugh out of his beloved.

“Likewise, Mr. Laurence,” Jo, too, bowed, as Laurie knew she would. They smiled at each other, and for a moment, Laurie felt shockingly like he was seventeen years old once more. He felt like he had done when the two of them had first met, that night of the ball. Back then, his heart had been filled with so much joy and hope for the future. Perhaps, it was time for him to finally regain that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such anxiety when writing this because I know this is something that's been a long time coming, and I wasn't sure if anything that I wrote was good enough. It all felt very anticlimactic. But then again, this is not a soap opera, so why should everything have to be so dramatic all the time? Anyway, the whole separation of Amy and Laurie had been set up basically since chapter 1, so I'm glad to finally get the ball rolling on that. I think it's high time Jo and Laurie had some happiness. 
> 
> But yeah, sorry if this isn't good, I don't even know anymore.


	13. i can see you standing, honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the big delay with this chapter. I've been super busy, and since I'm moving countries in less than two weeks, this is a really hectic time for me. I can't promise updates every other day like I used to do, but I will certainly write them whenever I'm able. Thank you to everyone who is still interested in this story (I will respond to comments as soon as I can, too!) 
> 
> Also sorry if this chapter has more mistakes than usual, I haven't really had time to proofread.

Jo had never been afraid of confrontation in her life. She had not been afraid of it when she had been a child and thrown a rock through the window only to be scolded by Marmee minutes later. She had not been afraid of it when Amy had burnt her book in their teen years, and the two had clashed over it. She had not been afraid of it with Friedrich’s criticism, or Mr. Dashwood’s negotiations. But she was afraid of it now.

She stood in front of the Laurence home for what felt like forever before she finally knocked on the door. She was let in by the maid and waited in the piano room. She found it ironic, that their confrontation would be taking place in the very room Laurie had grown so fond of.

“I thought you might show up, sooner or later,” Amy’s voice cut through the silence, and Jo spun around, cursing under her breath. She must have looked like a startled deer.

“Amy,” she said. “I... look...”

“Before you get started on whatever speech you have prepared, let me speak”, Amy interrupted, stepping closer, a harsh glare in her eyes. “I do not want your excuses, and I do not want your apologies. However you spin it, you stole my husband from me. Those are the facts, and I’ll be damned if I have to stand here and listen to you try to justify yourself to me.”

Jo sighed. She understood Amy’s wrath all too well. It must have been similar to what she herself had felt when she had heard of Amy and Laurie’s marriage. But she needed to do better than Amy had done with her pathetic excuse of an apology. She needed to make this right, somehow. But what kind of words could make what she’d done right?

“You’re not leaving me with much to say, then,” she murmured. “But I promise you, we will find a way for you and Laurie to split and for you to keep your dignity. For whatever that’s worth.”

“That is worth nothing, coming from you. How generous of you, Jo. How very generous of you to promise that I will be able to walk away from this with my dignity intact!” Amy snapped, tears welling up in her eyes. “What about _you_ , sister? Will _you_ be able to keep your dignity when all of this is said and done?!”

Jo hesitated. She had the answer, but she wasn’t sure if Amy wanted to hear it.

“Well?”

“It won’t matter what happens to my dignity”, Jo said simply. “I love Laurie. I’m willing to pay the price for it.”

“How noble,” Amy spat out. “Anything else?”

Jo walked forwards, only for Amy to take a step back, turning her face away from her. Jo had known Amy would resist her apology, but she could not leave before she at least said everything she had wanted to say. She had to do at least that. “I know you don’t want to hear it, and I’m not exactly good at saying it, but I am so sorry that I hurt you. If I could go back and change things, I would. I would do so many things differently.”

“But you would still take Laurie away from me.”

Jo knew what Amy meant, but she couldn’t resist saying the words. “Laurie is a man in his own right. No one can take him away or give him back. He made his own choice.”

Amy moved away, turning around to no doubt wipe the tears from her eyes. Jo felt so bad for her, and she did feel guilty. Even if she did not regret her relationship with Laurie, and even if she did not regret what was going to happen now, she did know that she was responsible for it. She was the one to blame for all of this. If she had never written Laurie that letter, he and Amy would perhaps now be a happy couple.

“You deserve someone who loves you completely,” Jo whispered. “Isn’t that what you want, too?”

“it doesn’t matter, because there is no way in hell you are doing any of this for _my_ benefit. You can’t fix this, Jo! No matter how you try, you can’t fix this.”

Jo cursed under her breath. She hated Amy for her stubbornness and her righteous anger. But deep down, she knew that if roles were reversed, her wrath would perhaps be even stronger still. The fact that Amy had not begun the conversation by tackling her to the ground was a small miracle.

“I may not be able to fix this, but I’m going to try.”

“I don’t see why this matters to you, anyway,” Amy muttered, walking out of the room and heading towards the staircase. “You never cared about things such as reputation and social graces, anyway. Whatever happens to me or Laurie should be of no consequence to you.”

“It matters to me because it matters to you.”

“How comforting.” Amy met her gaze, a dry smile on her lips. She looked so tired, so worn down, the way Laurie had done a few days ago. How ironic it was, that the happiness of one resulted in the great unhappiness of another. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go upstairs and pack up. I do not want to stay in this house a second longer than I have to.”

Jo watched Amy disappear up the stairs and realized that she now felt no better than she had done before. It was true, their argument had technically gone better than she had expected. Neither one of them had ended up on the floor, bleeding. But she knew that there was a chance that she and Amy would never be able to fix what she had broken here. She just hoped that it would be worth it in the end.

* * *

The next few days were a complete whirlwind of feelings for Jo. It started with Amy moving out of the Laurence manor without even telling Laurie, which had of course led to a huge quizzing from both Marmee and Father. Jo couldn’t bear to be there to witness it, so she had practically run away to Aunt March’s house as soon as Amy had stepped inside. And there she was, a week later, hiding away in her new house like a coward. Jo March didn’t run away. Jo March didn’t shy away from conflict. This wasn’t her.

“You really ought to try to decorate this place a bit, Jo,” Marmee remarked. Jo had been surprised when her mother had come for a visit, but then again, she had always been the mediator in the family. She had made Jo and Amy make up after the incident with her writing. If anyone could make them make amends now, it would be Marmee.

But they were teenagers no longer, and this was more serious than a simple matter of a burnt book.

“I’m alright for now,” Jo said. She glanced around, noting how ridiculous her statement was to anyone who actually took a look around the room. She spent most of her time in the room with the fireplace, since the winter was rather cold and unforgiving this year. She had the writing desk Laurie had given her, a chair, a few blankets and pillow, and a small couch. The room was as empty and hollow as Jo felt at the moment.

“I suppose you will be moving in with Laurie sooner or later, anyway,” Marmee said, sitting on the floor, curled up by the fireplace. Jo frowned. She hadn’t even thought about the future. She had asked Laurie to stay away for the time being, so to not hurt Amy any more than they already were. She was spending most of her time trying to think of a way for Amy and Laurie to separate so that they both kept their reputations. But she had not stopped to think about what would come after.

“I suppose,” Jo murmured. She stared at her hands, feeling a surprising amount of shame under the glare of her mother. She knew that none of this had come as a surprise to Marmee, but she still couldn’t help but feel like she’d disappointed her somehow. And disappointing the woman she had always looked up to a great deal was the last thing she ever wanted to do.

“Have you seen him?” Marmee frowned. “Why is he not here with you?”

“We thought it would be proper if we stayed away a while. For Amy’s sake.”

“Dear, I don’t think staying away from each other an extra week or two is going to do much to appease Amy,” Marmee gave that knowing smile of hers, the one that told Jo that her mother could practically read her mind. Perhaps she could. She had always been so perceptive.

“Well, we agreed to be proper until... something is finalized between the two of them”, Jo ran a hand through her hair. “We want to do this right.”

“Very admirable, to be sure. Have you thought of anything?”

“No,” Jo felt the frustration of the past few weeks getting to her, and she kicked the side of her desk, more in anger and frustration than anything else.

“I am inclined to agree with you, divorce would cause quite a scandal,” Marmee murmured. “Perhaps it would not have been, had Amy not accompanied Aunt March to Europe. But while there, she made some connections, and now many people know about Amy, and her marriage to Laurie.”

Jo frowned. “What about the man who Amy was planning on marrying before Laurie? What was his name?”

“Fred Vaughn,” Marmee said. “He is probably taken by now, and there is nothing to say that Amy would still even want him – or that he would take her. Men are so particular about these things.”

“It’s still worth a probe, is it not?” Jo sighed. “You should invite him to dinner.”

Marmee shook her head, a bit hesitant. “I doubt a man of his stature would come to dinner at our house.”

“Worth the question, in my opinion. Please.”

Her mother let out a heavy sigh. “I will discuss it with Amy. I can’t promise anything.”

Jo nodded. She turned back to her scribblings, her shoulders slumping. She was feeling the weight of everything. Even now, having passed this one thing over to Marmee, she still felt like she had a million things to do and nowhere to start.

She heard Marmee stand up, and felt her hand on her shoulder, squeezing sympathetically. “I would tell you to talk to Amy, but I think the best thing you can do for now is give her time.”

“I thought as much.”

“But you should see Laurie,” she continued. “You miss him. He misses you.”

“But Amy-”

“Amy knows the reality of what has happened,” Marmee sighed. “She is not expecting anything of Laurie anymore. She is a great deal smarter than you give her credit for.”

“Would you give Laurie a note for me, if I wrote it now?”

“Yes, dear.”

They stood there silently for a few more minutes as Jo scribbled up a hasty letter for Laurie. She felt a bit dirty for doing it, for having to pass notes like they were in hiding or doing something wrong. To an extent, this was true. How had this happened?

* * *

She waited for him in the garden, shivering slightly due to the cold. She had asked for Laurie to arrive at nightfall, and here she was, waiting. She felt like a schoolgirl in love. Jo would never have expected to experience something like this, to feel this overwhelming sense of excitement and happiness at the prospect of a lover’s arrival. But it made sense that, should she ever experience it, it would be with Laurie. Her best friend, and her closest confidant.

Suddenly, Jo was taken off guard by a snowball to the back of her head. She spun around, only having half a second to duck out of the way before Laurie threw another, missing her narrowly. She laughed, rushing to gather a ball of her own, aiming and hitting her friend right in the face. Laurie yelped, falling onto the snow.

Jo gasped, finding herself genuinely worried as she rushed over to him. “Teddy, you better not be hurt, or I’ll blame myself, and I do not want that on my conscience.”

As soon as she was within reach, Laurie grabbed onto her by the waist and pulled Jo down to him, causing her to exclaim.

“Teddy!” Jo protested, but she was laughing. She felt lighter and happier than she had done in ages. Such was the magic of one Theodore Laurence.

“I’m not hurt,” Laurie snickered, settling down and gazing up at her, a soft smile on his lips. Jo was still a bit overwhelmed by the knowledge that she was the reason he was smiling like that. “But if I had perished, would you have mourned for me?”

“You better not die, Teddy, I’m warning you now. I expect you by my side until the end of my days, and only then are you allowed to rest. Understood?”

Something in Laurie’s expression took Jo by surprise. Perhaps it was seeing him so overwhelming happy at the prospect of them spending the rest of their lives together.

“Understood”, he only said, smiling still. They stayed there for a bit, wrapped in each other’s arms. It was moments like these that made Jo forget they had anything to worry about. Moments like these made her wonder why she and Laurie should ever struggle to be together. They belonged together. They always had and they always would.

Eventually, the cold got a bit too much, and as soon as Jo noticed Laurie’s shivers, she helped him up, wrapping an arm around him, leading him indoors.

“I haven’t got much in the way of food for us,” she said. “But I could make some hot cocoa.”

“My girl, you spoil me,” Laurie scooped down and placed a kiss on Jo’s cheek, a gentle, affectionate gesture they had never allowed themselves to perform. But it felt so right, didn’t it?

The kitchen was one of the only other rooms in the house that Jo had gotten at least a bit acquainted with. The two of them headed over, and Laurie sat on the counter as Jo worked away, aware of his stare.

“Is this what our life is going to be like, I wonder?” Laurie asked, the teasing obvious in his voice. “You slaving away in the kitchen?”

“In your dreams, Teddy,” Jo glared at him, earning a smirk from Laurie. “I will never be that kind of wife.”

“I was under the impression you didn’t want to be any kind of wife,” Laurie’s voice was softer, as if he was afraid of her response. It hurt Jo, in a way, that he was still so uncertain of her feelings for him. But then again, could she really blame him?

Jo glanced back at him, remembering something Laurie had said to her months and months ago. “A woman can change.”

Laurie smiled. “So I see.”

These things could be discussed later. They both knew, even without speaking the words, that the priority was making sure that Amy and Laurie got out of this marriage as cleanly as possible. It was not going to be easy, and it was most likely going to take time. It would be presumptuous to talk about their future before that.

As Jo handed Laurie his mug, she noted that he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring anymore. It was all starting to feel so final. “What does your grandfather say about all of this?”

“He is very displeased with me,” Laurie murmured. “We haven’t really even talked, since Amy left. Which is how he found out.”

“Oh, Teddy. You didn’t give him a warning beforehand?”

“What was I supposed to say? ‘Grandfather? I’ve decided to divorce Amy and be with Jo instead. I hope you’ll understand.’ He would have disowned me. He still might.”

“He will do no such thing,” Jo said with complete conviction. “He loves you. I know he is harsh, and I know he treats you worse than you deserve sometimes. But he does love you.”

“You can still disown someone who you love,” Laurie smiled. “But perhaps you’re right. In any case, if it happens, I am willing to pay the price for it.”

Jo sipped her hot cocoa, wondering how she had gotten this lucky. How did this sweet, amazing man love her so much? “Have you spoken to Amy?”

“No. She doesn’t want to see me, and I do not blame her in the slightest,” Laurie murmured. He pulled Jo closer by her sleeve, his fingers brushing against her wrist. “I know we said we’d be proper until...”

“We are keeping that promise, Teddy”, Jo said sternly, though she was finding it more difficult to focus the more Laurie looked at her. “We have to be good, for once in our lives.”

“Would it be unreasonable of me to ask for one kiss, though?” Laurie gave the smallest of pouts, warming Jo’s heart in an instant. She knew it was a trick, but she could not resist. What had happened to Jo March, the independent heroine, and who was this sentimental fool?

“I suppose not. But just one,” she sighed dramatically, leaning closer and brushing her lips against Laurie’s, only the lightest of touches. She still didn’t feel very comfortable in her ability to kiss, being ever aware of the fact that Laurie had to be much more experienced than she was. But to her delight, he seemed just as nervous as she did. She supposed that perhaps it was different, each time you started again with someone new.

Laurie connected their lips once more, once again the lightest of touches, but he remained there a few seconds longer, bringing his hand up to her chin, their noses brushing together.

The heat that Jo had felt between them for a while was back, and stronger than ever. She wanted nothing more than to give into it, but she could not. She simply could not.

Laurie pulled away first, looking pained. “Oh, Jo”, he sighed. “You drive me crazy.”

“I could say the same for you.”

They spent the rest of the night, cuddled up together by the fire, drinking their cocoa. It was its own kind of bliss, and one Jo never wanted to give up, now that she had been blessed with it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter wasn't very dramatic, especially after such a wait, but I am glad to be writing some soft Jo and Laurie content for a change.


	14. with her arms around your body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I took some liberties with the origin story of Laurie's parents. Very little is said about them in canon anyway, so it shouldn't matter. I know some people go the route of Laurie's father being like a bad person or something, but for me I'm just going with the "yeah he married an Italian woman and they had a good time and then they died", because it fits my purposes best. 
> 
> Also, fair warning: while this chapter doesn't really get mature, it will at one point or another. I know I rated this fic mature so you're all probably aware, but I thought I'd remind you guys anyway just in case anyone isn't comfortable with that.
> 
> P.S. I'm now really running out of lyrics to use, so I'll just alter the remaining ones to fit my needs.

“My goodness, Teddy, I never did take you for such a romantic.” The two were sitting in the kitchen of Aunt March’s old house, enjoying the warmth of the hearth there, nibbling on the biscuits and drinking the hot tea Marmee had brought over not ten minutes earlier. Laurie decided that he rather enjoyed spending time here, no matter how much he had found Aunt March remarkably off-putting in real life.

He chuckled, watching curiously as Jo scanned through the pages of the first draft of his opera. It had taken months and months to write, and he knew it was far from perfect, but it was a start.

“I thought you already knew that about me,” Laurie said. They were sitting right next to each other, Jo’s arm wrapped around Laurie’s shoulder as she held the paper in her other hand, slightly leaning on him. Every now and then, Laurie would press soft kisses against Jo’s hair or her cheek, but she scolded him each time, saying that it only distracted her from reading.

“I knew you were romantic, sure, but not this level,” Jo murmured. “I could never write anything like this.”

Laurie blushed, but he felt that perhaps Jo was just being kind. Yes, his story was filled with melancholy and longing, but it was not the kind of grounded, realistic tale that Jo had written and published with her _Little Women_.

“Perhaps you couldn’t do it before because you’d never felt anything that strongly,” he suggested, glancing at her. He saw the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips and knew he had hit the nail on the head.

“You could be right,” Jo murmured, turning to face him, their noses almost brushing with how close they were sitting. Laurie felt Jo squeeze his shoulder gently. “But that is not the case anymore.”

“Jo March, a romantic?” Laurie teased.

“Oh, never. Never,” Jo snickered, turning back to the pages, placing one on the table to retrieve the next one. “But I have come to realize that, if it’s with the right person, perhaps love is not so bad after all.”

“Must be quite a man, to make you change your mind about such a thing.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Jo nudged his shoulder, causing Laurie to laugh. He pulled her closer by the waist, and Jo settled on leaning her head against his shoulder, looking over the text once more.

Laurie closed his eyes, relaxing. He listened to the sound of the fire cracking in the hearth, the soft rhythm of Jo’s breathing, and the rustling of the paper. This was what it felt like to be at home, he realized. He had never quite found it. Not with his parents, not with his grandfather, and not with Amy. But he did have it now, with Jo.

“I told Marmee to invite Fred Vaughn for dinner,” Jo said, ruining the mood. Laurie opened his eyes, frowning. For a moment he struggled to remember who Fred Vaughn even was, and then it clicked. The sorry fellow who had been wanting to marry Amy before he had come along.

“Do you really think Amy would say yes to that?” he asked. He remembered Amy’s words about not wanting to be second best, and he couldn’t really picture her being content with settling for a man she had initially turned down, either.

“Well, probably not, but as her sister it is my job t try to fix what I broke.”

“I don’t think this is the right way to fix it,” Laurie said. He glanced at Jo, noting how displeased she looked in his words. He nudged a bit closer. “I know you’re trying to help, but Amy might simply take offense.”

“What other ideas do you have, then, Teddy? I am all ears. Because, if I recall correctly, you have not come up with a single thing,” Jo snapped, removing her hand from Laurie’s shoulder, glaring at him. “Even though it was your task to begin with.”

“I know,” Laurie felt guilty for it. “I know, believe me. And I have thought of this, but nothing I can think of sounds like something she would be content with. The only thing on my mind is-”

“Divorce is out of the question. At least until Amy finds someone else to marry her.”

“Jo”, Laurie knew Jo felt guilty, and this was her way of expressing it. It was the only way she could express it, by trying to fix things instead of trying to make amends with Amy directly. “This is not the way.”

“If I were a more insecure woman, I would accuse you of being jealous of Fred Vaughn,” Jo murmured, avoiding his gaze as her hands fumbled with the papers on the table.

“But you are not an insecure woman, Jo. And you know that I love you, and only you. That is the case now, as it has been since the day I met you. Do you really need me to tell you that?”

“No,” Jo admitted reluctantly. She finally looked at him, and Laurie could see the guilt and worry in her eyes. “I just hate that I ruined Amy’s life.”

“You might have ruined Amy’s life, but you saved mine. For whatever that’s worth.”

Jo’s expression softened at this, and she buried her face in his neck, breathing steadily. Laurie ran his fingers through her hair, closing his eyes once more. “Perhaps Fred Vaughn will be just the thing Amy needs. I don’t know. I shouldn’t be so quick to judge.”

“You can think it’s a terrible idea. It probably is. But it’s the only one I have,” Jo sighed. She shrugged, clearly at a loss for what to do. It was much like how Laurie felt. He wanted Amy to be happy, but he didn’t know how to make it happen. If anything, he was an expert at how to make her unhappy.

“You never know.”

They sat there silently for a few moments, Jo going back to reading and Laurie closing his eyes, his head now pressed against Jo’s shoulder as she read on. The sound of the fire, the wind outside, and the softness of Jo’s hair against his cheek all worked together to help Laurie drifted off to a much-needed sleep.

* * *

Laurie had never considered himself a coward, but now, he was not so sure. Ever since Amy had left the Laurence home, Laurie, too had spent as little time as possible at the house, not wanting to deal with his grandfather’s wrath. But he knew he could not hide forever. He was going to be with Jo for the rest of his life, and his grandfather was simply going to have to come to terms with it.

As soon as he stepped inside, he could tell the air in the house was very different. It was quiet, cold. Amy had always done her best to keep the house warm and inviting for any possible guests – no doubt a trait she had learned from her mother. But not, it had reverted back to its original state. Cold, isolating.

“Back finally, are you?” Laurie glanced up, not overly surprised to find his grandfather standing a bit further up the stairs. He had probably heard the door and had descended down as quickly as possible. His grandfather could never resist giving a lecture.

“Forgive me, grandfather. I thought you preferred me out of sight, out of mind,” Laurie muttered, walking past him towards the piano room. He had only come to gather some of his things to take to Jo’s.

“Don’t you give me attitude, boy! You are in no position to do so!” His grandfather followed swiftly behind, and Laurie did not even have to look at him to know that he was scowling.

“I am well aware. And, as we discussed, I am doing my best to make amends.”

“How could you possibly make amends for what you’ve done? You left your wife. Even your father never sank that low.”

Laurie frowned, biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from snapping back. He moved over to the piano, gathering some of his notes.

“What is your plan, then? To live in a dead woman’s house for the rest of your life?”

“If you want to go by that logic, every house is some dead woman’s house,” Laurie murmured, but it did not go unheard.

“Again with the attitude. Look at me when I speak to you, boy.”

Laurie slammed the notes back against the piano and turned around, hands in his pockets. “I know you’re disappointed. I know that what I did was wrong. But grandfather, it would have been equally wrong to remain married to a woman I did not love.”

“Love! What is it with you younglings and the concept of ‘ _love_ ’?” His grandfather rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated. “Sometimes you truly are the spitting image of your father.”

“If that is true, then you ought not to be surprised by my actions,” Laurie remarked. “My parents married for love. I, too, shall do the same.”

“But you are already married, and from what you told me, divorce was off the table.”

“We might have a plan”, Laurie thought of Fred, and wondered if the man truly cared for Amy enough to take her after all this. It was not an impossibility.

“A plan?” Grandfather looked old beyond his years as he stared at his grandson. “Theodore, I only want you to be happy. But this is not the way.”

“It is the _only_ way.”

“How can you even know that what she feels for you is real?” he asked, looking genuinely puzzled. It was only then that Laurie realized how little his grandfather knew him, or Jo. “She refused you once before. What if you get down on one knee again, and she refuses you a second time? What will you do, then?”

“Then I shall admit defeat and live out the rest of my days on my own,” Laurie said. There was not even a small part of him that doubted Jo now. If he asked again, she would not refuse. Or, if she did, it would only be a refusal of the marriage, not of the two of them being together for the rest of their lives. “It is Jo, or nothing.”

“Romantic fool,” Grandfather muttered, but he seemed to be calming down. “Much... much like your father.”

Laurie walked closer, placing a hesitant hand on his grandfather’s shoulder. “I will fix everything, Grandfather. I promise. But this had to happen.”

Grandfather said nothing for a moment, allowing Laurie to head to the door before he spoke again: “You and Jo are free to live here, if you wish. I hope you know that.”

Laurie hadn’t known that, but hearing it warmed his heart, despite how impossible it would be to take him up on his offer. “As much as we would like to, we don’t want to torment Amy any more than we already have. Perhaps one day.”

“As you will,” neither said anything more, and gathered the rest of his things, after which he left the house feeling considerably lighter than he had felt upon entering.

That feeling disappeared mere seconds after. As soon as he’d walked out, he froze, coming face to face with none other than Amy, who was standing in front of him.

“Amy.” Laurie clutched onto his things, the bag in which he’d packed some clothes and shoes, and his notes on his opera. “What are you...?”

“I was coming to see your grandfather. I thought I would explain myself. I never did, you know,” Amy said, clearly displeased to have run into him. “How are you, Laurie?”

“Fine,” Laurie didn’t know how to act in front of her anymore. Perhaps he never really had. They had never had that ease, that connection that he and Jo had. How had he not seen it from the start? “And yourself?”

“Marmee has invited Fred Vaughn to dine with us, and he has accepted,” Amy glared, stating in no uncertain terms how she felt about this. “She did so behind my back.”

“I thought she would ask you,” Laurie whispered, revealing his hand as he did.

“So, you knew. Was it your idea?”

“I- yes,” Laurie would rather take the blame than give Amy another reason to be angry at Jo. This was not her fault, after all. “I thought you would... enjoy seeing him.”

“You thought you would try to match me with the man that I have already turned down once. What, do you think he will still be willing to take me, after everything you did?” Amy scoffed. “You live in a fairytale land, Laurie. You always have.”

Laurie moved past Amy, realizing that he was too tired, too worn out to get into an argument with her. “I’m doing my best to fix what I broke.”

“The best thing you can do for me is stay out of my business,” Amy snapped. “I do not want your help, nor do I want Jo’s. You two can disappear off to Europe, spend the rest of your lives gallivanting and causing mischief for all I care. Just stay out of _my_ life.”

Laurie understood if Amy wanted him out of her life, but he did not believe that Amy no longer wanted Jo in her life. She had been so worried about Jo’s reaction to their marriage, so obviously, her opinion mattered to Amy. “Jo is your sister.”

“That meant nothing when she did what she did.”

“Do not place the blame on Jo, Amy. I am the one who hurt you.” Laurie knew well enough that Jo was the last person he knew who needed protecting, but still, he felt an overwhelming urge to defend her against her sister’s wrath.

“You _both_ hurt me. And for that, I hate you both. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go apologize to your grandfather,” Amy walked inside the house without another word, leaving Laurie standing there with his bags and his papers. He hoped that Fred would prove to be the solution they needed, but he had a nagging feeling that it would not be as simple as that.

* * *

It was surreal, coming into Aunt March’s old house to find Jo sitting there, by her writing desk, scribbling away in the warmth of the fireplace. It felt like coming home to his wife, Laurie realized. And perhaps, one day, that would be a reality.

“My girl, we must find more furniture. I have no interest in sitting on the floor for the rest of my life,” Laurie groaned as he placed his bags on the floor, scanning the room. Besides the fireplace and the desk and chair, this particularly room only had a small sofa, and some candles here and there. The other rooms were not much better.

“Blame Aunt March for not leaving me her furniture,” in truth, that was not the case. Aunt March had left the house in its entirety to Jo, but she had given most of the furniture to Marmee, Meg, and some to the other villagers who needed them. Laurie admired her for her kindness, as he admired her for her insistence to not dwell on it.

“Where am I to sit, then?” Laurie whined, trying to distract himself from his encounter with Amy. The guilt was weighing on him heavier than it did usually.

“Well, my lap, dear boy. Where else?” Jo obviously meant it as a joke, a jest to brush away, but Laurie decided he would play with her just a little bit. He walked closer, pulling Jo’s chair back – earning a yelp from her. Without a word, he sat on her lap, as she had requested, facing her.

Jo looked startled for a second or two, before her expression turned to one of amusement. “Now, how am I to do my work with you here, looking at me like this?”

“I think that’s exactly the idea. I don’t _want_ you to do your work,” Laurie leaned closer, burying his face in her neck, taking in her scent. They had been so good, and he knew they should continue to be good. But it was so difficult when he spent every waking moment of every day alone in the same house with the love of his life. Anyone would be tempted. “You already published your book.”

“But I have to write another, and another, and...,” Jo sighed contently, reacting to Laurie pressing his lips against her neck gently, lingering there. He couldn’t resist a smirk as he felt Jo’s hands bury themselves in his hair.

“You can write later,” Laurie whispered, pressing another kiss against her neck, allowing himself to bite as gently as possible. He snickered as he heard Jo’s breath catch in her throat.

“Stop”, Jo groaned. “Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you”, Laurie kissed her neck again, opening his mouth, about to press down on her skin when Jo shoved him, bringing him back to reality.

Jo had her hands pressed against the front of his shirt, and her eyes were filled with the utmost intensity as she stared at him. “We _can’t_.”

“I know,” Laurie hated the fact that he knew that Jo was right. Jo was always right. “I know-” He was about to stand up when Jo tugged on his shirt, keeping him still.

“We can still kiss,” she whispered, her voice strained. Laurie loved seeing her like this, hungry, excited. And he loved the fact that he was making her feel like this. “For thirty seconds. Then I go back to work.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

Before he could initiate it, Jo had pulled on his shirt, hard, and smashed their lips together, promptly taking over the situation. Laurie loved this the best: when Jo felt comfortable enough to take control, like he knew she wanted to. Experience be damned. Kissing Jo was the best thing Laurie had ever had the luxury of doing.

“Twenty-nine,” Jo broke apart from the kiss, going back in for another, opening her mouth enough for Laurie to slide his tongue in, only a little, and the gentlest of touches. He felt her tense for a second, but Jo relaxed as quickly as she had frozen, and opened her mouth more, allowing him proper entrance. They kissed for a moment, Jo muttering against his mouth: “Twenty-five... twenty-one.”

“Jo. Jo”, Laurie groaned, pulling back so quickly that Jo’s next kiss landed on his cheek, and she continued as if nothing had happened. She pressed gentle kisses against his cheek, moving down towards his neck, copying his earlier actions.

“Fifteen,” the girl muttered, her voice the most arousing thing Laurie had ever heard in his life. “Fourteen.”

Laurie almost jumped in surprise as he felt Jo lift her hips, grinding up against his growing erection, desperate to feel some kind of friction. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped his mouth, which earned a chuckle out of Jo.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Laurie repeated Jo’s earlier words, but he was completely lost in the moment – too much to care. His hands had moved to Jo’s upper legs, massaging the skin through the fabric of her skirt, trying his very best to not meet Jo’s eager thrusts. She could not. If they were indeed to stop in less than five seconds, he could not.

“One” came, and Jo did not stop. She had moved back to his lips, kissing him with feverish passion, her arms around his neck, almost too tight. Laurie knew this feeling all too well. The desperate actions of trying to achieve the pleasure you knew was there but didn’t quite know how to achieve just yet. He would show her and let her show him things in return. But it could not be now. It could not.

“Jo, my love,” Laurie groaned, grabbing her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his gaze. “If you truly think we should stop, then we should stop _now_. The longer we do this, the more... difficult it will be.”

Jo glared at him. He understood it, the frustration and the want. The need. He felt it, too. Oh, how much he felt it. “Don’t talk down to me. Just because I haven’t... it doesn’t mean I don’t know what-”

“I know, but I’m telling you... _I_ don’t have the self-restraint to stop, if you act like this. You said we should wait. I want to respect that.”

Jo cursed under her breath, removing her hands from Laurie’s body and looking away, the blush clear on her cheeks. “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Trust me,” Laurie pressed a kiss against her scarlet cheek before standing up, adjusting his trousers to make the best possible attempt to hide the bulge. Of course, he only succeeded in drawing more attention to it. And once again, Jo laughed.

“I hate you,” Laurie smirked, not meaning it even in the slightest. And, within seconds, he was laughing, too. He hoped that this would be how they were going to be for the rest of their lives. Joyful, in love, and completely at ease with one another. That, for Laurie, was the definition of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that anyone cares what I think, but Jo is 100% a top.


	15. i've finally learned to read your mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dune has been delayed to 2021 so I don't care about anything anymore.

Jo was not a meddler. Jo was not the kind of person who stuck her nose into affairs that were not her own. Most of the time it was because she did not care enough to do so, and a lot of other times she trusted people to be able to sort themselves. The only person that had really been the exception to this had been her Beth, who she had tried to protect at all costs, and had eventually failed. After that, she had sworn to never, ever try to fix someone else’s life ever again.

Until now.

“Meg”, she hissed, managing to finally catch her sister’s attention. The brunette girl was standing in the March home’s kitchen, doing dishes with the window open, letting in the cool breeze. And though Jo could not see them due to her being situated outside the house, she knew that Amy, Fred Vaughn, Marmee and Father had to be in the next room, enjoying the after-dinner coffee.

“Jo!” Meg gasped, startled. “What on earth are you doing there?”

Jo, Marmee and Laurie had all agreed that it would certainly be for the best if neither one of them attended the dinner. It would make Fred feel more welcome to not have Laurie in attendance, and it would hopefully make things less awkward. Though, how could such a situation _not_ be awkward?

“I can’t come in, can I?” Jo said impatiently. She was crouching in the bushes underneath the window, feeling like an utter child. “What’s happening, are they getting along?”

Meg glanced to her left, obviously listening out for any talk. “They’re discussing England, and how Amy would love to pay Fred a visit. He seems to be in good spirits. When he saw Laurie wasn’t here, he cheered up considerably.”

“Has Amy talked to him about the situation yet?”

“I hardly think so.”

“Well, she has to make sure to do so before he leaves,” Jo said. “And to emphasize that she is a free woman now. And that Laurie is willing to go with any arrangement they-”

“Jo”, Meg said, as patiently as an older sister could respond to her younger sibling’s ramblings. “Let her deal with this on her own. You needn’t interfere.”

Jo deflated a bit, but she knew Meg was right. “I know,” she murmured. “I just want it to go well.”

Meg was about to respond when they heard footsteps, and Jo quickly ducked, hiding herself in the snowy bushes quite well. She tried not to jump at the cold, frozen water against her cheeks, and listened instead. She heard Amy’s voice quite distinctly.

“It’s going quite well, wouldn’t you say?”

“Very”, Meg agreed. “When will you discuss the situation with him?”

“He’s staying in town for a few days, I’m to have tea with him tomorrow. Perhaps then.”

Jo smiled to herself. She was happy that Amy was at least somewhat on board this idea, even if it felt like she was forcing her hand just a little bit.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Meg asked, concerned as ever. “You do not have to. You know that, right?”

Amy didn’t have a chance to respond, as then the three girls could hear Marmee’s voice from the other room, beckoning both sisters to return. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“And Jo?”

“Jo is busy elsewhere, I’m sure,” Amy’s voice was still filled with the same bitterness as last time, but Jo couldn’t exactly blame her. She hadn’t been much better when Amy had married Laurie.

She stayed in hiding for a few seconds longer, feeling a surprising surge of guilt. Was she forcing Amy into this? Did Amy even like Fred? She had never been quite able to understand Amy’s infatuations, even with Laurie. To Jo, it had always seemed like Amy had just met Laurie, and then decided that she liked him on the spot. Same with Fred, that day on the beach. Was it really like that? It had not been that way for her, not even close. Her love for Laurie had creeped up on her, slowly but surely. She had never seen it coming, but once it was there, she had no idea how she had ever been able to not see it.

She stood up slowly, taking one last look back at the house she had once called home. She knew she was very much in a mess of her own making, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Jo made her way back to Aunt March’s house, walking through the snow, managing to soak through her shoes in the process. But all that was forgotten when she entered to find Laurie in the room, looking around at his handiwork. And Jo looked, too.

While she had been gone, Laurie had clearly gone back to the Laurence mansion and grabbed some of the furniture, no doubt hiring help to bring it all in in a timely manner. Now the empty room was empty no room, with rugs, coffee tables and even fresh flowers decorating the area. And as Jo peered into the next room, she could see that the same had been done there, and no doubt with all of the rooms. What a remarkable boy she had chosen for herself.

“How long was I gone?” she asked, causing Laurie to finally notice her presence. He almost dropped the set of books in his hands but managed to juggle somehow. His hair was a mess, his coat was off and even his waistcoat was open, revealing the slightly wrinkled white shirt underneath. Jo liked him best like this. Chaotic, free and vibrant. This was the Laurie that had been missing the day the two of them had been reunited in the attic, all that time ago.

Laurie smirked. He looked so young when he smiled like this, so full of life and mischief. For a moment, Jo felt like she was 17 once more. “Not too long,” he said. “But I’ve been planning this for a while. I got some of the boys in town to help – don’t worry, I paid them.” He walked over to Jo, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“You furnished our home,” Jo said it without even thinking it, but as soon as she had, she realized that the use of ‘our’ had been a distinct moment for them both. Yes. This was their home. They were a single unit now, never to be parted again. Married or no, it was going to be the two of them from now on.

“Yes,” Laurie whispered; his tone soft. Jo closed her eyes as she felt Laurie press his nose against her cheek, holding her close. Jo placed her hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Steady, strong. It had never sunk in more than it did now; she was going to spend the rest of her life with this man.

“Now, if you do not care for it, we can make any changes you want,” Laurie said after a moment, pulling back and letting Jo take in everything. “But I did try to go for things I knew you liked.”

“Did you bring in your piano?” Jo asked. She walked around the house, Laurie following close behind. The abundance of items around them was an overwhelming sight for Jo. This was their home; this was their furniture.

“I did indeed. Is that alright?”

“Alright? I would have scolded you deeply, had you not”, Jo turned to look back at him, only to spin back around and gasp as she entered the library. “Oh, Teddy.”

The books had been the only part of Aunt March’s collection that Jo had kept for herself. That had already been more books that she could possibly read in a very, very long time. But now, with the books Laurie had added in from his family’s collection, the room could now serve as a library for an entire town. And on top of that, Laurie had decorated the room with armchairs, a few tables and flowers, and, in the corner, his piano.

“So I can play while you read”, Laurie whispered, placing a kiss on Jo’s cheek as he looked on, no doubt waiting for her reaction.

Jo didn’t know why this was the thing that broke her, but it did regardless. She felt the tears in her eyes, and quickly wiped them away, furious at herself. This was not something to wail over. This was a good thing.

“Are you... are you _crying?_ ” Laurie sounded shocked, which was not a surprise. Jo had never cried in front of him before, not really.

“I’m just happy,” Jo whispered, her voice cracking ever so slightly as she said it. It was difficult to admit unhappiness, but somehow, it was just as hard to admit that you were finally where you wanted to be.

“Oh, Jo,” Laurie moved to stand in front of her, and the bastard had the audacity to smirk. “Never did I think I’d witness Jo March tearing up, and out of joy, no less.”

Jo rolled her eyes but pulled Laurie closer by his waistcoat. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

“But, I do. Every day,” Laurie murmured, pressing a kiss against her forehead. They remained like that for a few moments, pulling away when Laurie grabbed onto her hand, taking her further on the tour. “I have some grand news, my girl.”

“Do tell, kind sir.”

“You will no longer be sleeping on that wretched sofa you insisted on bringing from the attic,” Laurie led her up the stairs and into the room Jo had sometimes been using as her bedroom. There stood the grandest, largest bed from the entirety of the Laurence manor, and Jo felt ever so spoiled seeing it. She had only ever slept in her small, childhood bed.

But then, a thought crossed her mind. “Where will you sleep?” she asked.

“I’ll go back tonight, get another one for myself” Laurie didn’t miss a beat in his response, and something about it just warmed Jo’s heart. The thought of taking advantage of this situation and making Jo share a bed with him hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“No,” Jo surprised even herself.

“What?”

“I think we should share it.” She knew how improper it was. She knew that as long as the two of them were trying to keep their distance, this was the most terrible of ideas. And yet, she wanted it, more than she was even able to explain to herself. This lust, too, was new to her. Everything felt new. And Jo loved it.

“Jo...”, Laurie was taking that tone with her again; the tone that told her that he was going to scold her on the distance they needed to keep with each other. But Jo didn’t care anymore.

“Do you not want to?”

“You know that I do,” Laurie responded. “But you are the one who said we should keep our distance.”

“Sleeping next to each other hardly means anything, Teddy.”

Laurie gave her a look, which Jo countered with a look of her own.

“That second bedroom could be put into much better use if we simply shared this one. It’s practical.”

“Practical,” Laurie repeated, rolling his eyes, but there was a smile on his lips that was easing the harshness of his words. “What a temptress you are.”

“I’ll be good if you will,” Jo smirked, linking her arm with Laurie’s, overflown with this newfound confidence. Ever since their little moment of passion the other day, she had felt like a fire had been lit inside her, and there was no extinguishing it. Of course, she would try to be good, but when had Jo ever been good in her life?

“Show me the rest of the house.”

* * *

Something as simple as getting to sleep in a comfortable, large bed should not have had such an impact on Jo, and yet, when she first sunk into the bed, she let out a laugh of disbelief. She had never cared much for riches, but it did come with certain advantages, even she had to admit that.

Jo had opted for wearing one of Laurie’s long, loose white shirts along with a loose pair of Laurie's trousers, to protect what little she had left of her dignity. But in truth, she was not feeling particularly bashful. It was _Laurie._ She felt comfortable with him no matter what. This was no exception.

She glanced up as he walked in, wearing a similar shirt and a white pair of trousers he no doubt slept in most nights. She tried her hardest not to look too hard at _that_ area of his body, but her eyes seemed to have a mind of her own. And it did not go unnoticed.

Laurie paused in the doorway, snickering. “Should I put on a show for you?”

“Would you mind?” Jo met his gaze and saw a desire in his eyes that she decided she was never going to get tired of. It was remarkable, that someone wanted her in this way. That Laurie wanted her in this way. She had never thought she would feel this kind of sexual pull towards anyone. For the longest time, she had felt that there was something wrong with her. And then it had hit her, all at once.

“Oh, Jo,” Laurie walked closer, his steps almost deafening in the quiet room. He moved the covers over and slipped inside.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I never thought it would be _bad_ , I just think this is a terrible idea if we want to be _good_ ,” Laurie corrected, looking at Jo. “If you allowed me, I would be... more than glad to...,” he paused, a slight redness appearing on his cheeks. “...to help you with your frustrations.”

“I know what I said before,” Jo leaned closer, stroking his cheek with a single finger. “But perhaps I’ve changed my mind.”

Laurie met her gaze, and his green eyes looked almost black in the dim light of the candles. He looked like he could positively eat her alive, and Jo was more thrilled at the idea than she would ever have expected.

“Are you saying that...?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I just want to do this,” Jo didn’t give Laurie time to react, and instead moved over to sit on his lap, straddling his hips, and closing the distance between their mouths with a surprising strength.

Laurie froze for half a second, but soon gave in, kissing Jo back with equal eagerness, his hands moving up her hips, to her waist, remaining there, clutching onto her skin through the fabric. Jo opened her mouth, deepening the kiss. She didn’t feel entirely confident in her abilities yet, but Laurie seemed to be enjoying it well enough.

Without even realizing it, Jo’s hands began the process of unbuttoning Laurie’s shirt, exposing the pale skin underneath. Jo pulled away from the kiss, taking note of the freckles, the bones peering through the skin, and the way Laurie’s chest was moving up and down as he took heavy breaths. She pulled the shirt off Laurie’s body entirely, tossing it on the floor to be dealt with later.

Jo looked down, her fingers brushing against his collarbone, moving down to brush past a nipple, settling down on his stomach. This was the first time she was seeing him like this. This was the most vulnerable they had ever been with each other. It was strange, and wonderful.

“Jo?” Laurie whispered; his voice small.

Too overwhelmed for words, Jo grabbed onto Laurie’s hands and placed them on the top button of the shirt she was wearing, clearly telling him what she wanted him to do. Their eyes met once more, and with a slow nod, Laurie popped open the button, continuing his journey downwards.

Jo said nothing, and barely breathed. She had never been particularly happy with her body, growing up with more of an indifference to it. She considered breasts to be the society’s marker of a woman, and she had never felt that much like the other women she knew. She didn’t hate her body, but she wasn’t sure if she was proud of it, either.

Once Laurie had finished with the buttons, he paused, running his fingers along the fabric of the shirt, moving back up towards Jo’s shoulders. He had not yet pulled the shirt off, so Jo’s body remained covered, still.

Jo grew impatient, tossing his hands away and pulling the shirt off herself, exposing herself without a second hesitation. If they were going to be together forever, there was no point in being coy, now, was there?

Jo looked at Laurie’s face, seeing the desire in his eyes, seeing how his fingers twitched ever so slightly, as if wanting to touch.

“You’re beautiful”, he whispered.

“So are you,” Jo replied, her hands once more pressed against his stomach. Suddenly, she felt tired. Content, happy and safe, but tired. Perhaps she had overestimated how far she wanted to take this tonight.

And as always, these days, Laurie seemed to read her like an open book. He moved ever so closer, cupping her face in his hands, stroking gently. “We should sleep,” he whispered.

“But, I don’t...,” Jo paused. “I made you think that...”

“Jo. You owe me nothing. I owe you nothing. It’s not like that.” Laurie brushed his lips against hers, their noses brushing together. “We have all the time in the world. No need to rush.”

Jo felt angry at herself. She was supposed to be so strong, so brave, so impulsive. And here she was, afraid of... what? She had been so ready only moments ago, but now all she wanted to do was fall asleep with Laurie in her arms.

Luckily for her, Laurie understood. How had she gotten this lucky?

Jo pulled him in for a hug, pressing her face against his neck. He felt warm against her exposed skin, and as he wrapped his arms around her, she felt safer than she had ever done in her life. “I love you,” she whispered. It still didn’t come easy to her, but she wanted to say it now. He needed to know.

“I love you too, my girl,” Laurie whispered gently against her ear, placing a single kiss on her bare shoulder. “Let’s sleep.”

Reluctantly, Jo let go of Laurie long enough to let him blow out the candles. As soon as he returned to bed, she pulled him down with her, and watched with a content smile as he settled with his head against her shoulder. Jo ran her fingers through his hair, closing her eyes.

She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for kinda teasing with the smut and then not delivering again. I do have a plan of sorts, so just be patient with me :)
> 
> Also, as has probably become evident by now, I'm definitely taking a more of a "modern" approach to the way Jo and Laurie think and talk about sex. Things such as consent, equal, mutual interest and comfort are very important to me, and I have no interest in writing smut that is more period-accurate, if it takes away from Jo's agency or just is otherwise less of a good time.


	16. you are my town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This chapter is shorter, and probably potato quality. I did the best with the time I had. Sorry. 
> 
> Hi, guys! Sorry it's been forever since I last updated. As I hinted at last time, life has gotten a lot busier since I enrolled at uni. To anyone who cares, it's going pretty great. My classes are fun, but challenging (last week I had 20 hours worth of homework), my roommates are all absolute 10/10's, and I've managed to meet a guy who was crazy enough to agree to be my boyfriend (I'm as shocked as you are). So, a lot has changed, and it's a bit difficult to focus on things like fics and even the internet in general. The only non-real life related thing I've given my attention to is Timothée, but that's nothing new. 
> 
> I know most of you probably didn't care to hear any of that, but I wanted to explain why I have been absent, and why I will probably continue to update irregularly. I have no plans to ditch this fic, but I can't dedicate as much time to it as I did before. I will still do my best to get a chapter out whenever I find some free time. If possible, please don't drop comments asking whether I've abandoned this fic or whether I'm gonna update. Those will only give me anxiety and make me feel more guilty than I already do. I love this fic and I love all of your feedback, and I will do my absolute best to keep delivering with this fic.

Days passed, and Laurie remained increasingly bewildered at just how lucky he was. He was living with the woman of his dreams, spending all of his days working on his opera, with Jo by his side. It felt just like the good, old days, only better. Better not only because he was now allowed to be close to Jo in a way he had never been before, but also because he was now able and allowed to express the hidden feelings he had kept locked away for such a long time. No more ignoring the rapid heartbeats whenever Jo graced him with a touch, and no more lingering looks that continued to go unnoticed by the girl. No. Now, when Jo touched him, Laurie was allowed to touch her back. And now, when he looked at her, she was sure to look back with the same level of adoration on her face.

Laurie was busy marveling at how his life had turned out when Jo walked into their new library, carrying a couple of books in her hands, looking bothered.

“What’s wrong?” he had become better and better at reading her subtle mood shifts, and he could tell immediately that something was bothering Jo.

“I’m just worried about Amy,” Jo explained, taking a seat next to Laurie. They were sitting by the piano, Laurie’s fingers still brushing against the keys as he looked on at Jo. “I want to ask what’s happened with Fred, but I know she wouldn’t speak to me.”

“Well, you could ask Marmee, or Meg,” Laurie offered. He hated the fact that she was practically unable to talk to her sister now, and all because of him. But at the same time, what could he really do about it? He didn’t think he was selfless enough to leave Jo now that he finally had her. He had tried, and failed. They had both tried and failed. It would be a fool’s errand to try to go back to the way things had been before.

“I did, that’s just where I was,” Jo explained impatiently, placing the books on top of the piano. Laurie recognized them as having previously belonged to the March house. “They say that she’s not telling them anything. But Fred is still in town, and they are seeing each other on the regular.”

“Hmm,” Laurie hummed. He had a hard time believing a man as posh and proper as Fred Vaughn would take back a woman who had not only refused him, but was also about to be divorced. But perhaps, if the man was in love with Amy, there was a chance. He hoped there was. He wanted Amy to be happy – as happy as he was with Jo. “Do you want me to speak to her?”

“I hardly think that would do any good,” Jo murmured, running a hand through her hair. “Thank you for the offer though, my boy.”

Laurie nodded. He knew that trying to get involved would only result in more damage, and if Amy was unwilling to speak to Jo, it was even less likely that she would be willing to speak to him. But there was another option, one Jo had not considered.

Jo glanced at him, frowning. “What?” She had also become better at reading him, and had Laurie not fixed his expression that very instant, she would probably have caught onto his plan.

“Nothing,” Laurie leaned closer, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I thought I might go pay my grandfather a visit. I feel sorry for him, being alone in that house.”

Jo nodded. “Would you prefer we stayed there, then?” They had had this discussion multiple times before, but it was still sweet of her to offer.

“We’ve discussed this before, my love, and the answer is still no,” Laurie stood up, heading to the door, feeling a bit guilty for the lie. But he would tell Jo once it was done. He had no intention of keeping secrets from the woman he loved. “I should be back in a few hours.”

“I suppose I’ll do some writing in your absence,” Jo hummed, taking a proper seat by the piano, pressing down a few of the keys. “Or maybe work on my music”, she smirked. For the past few days, Jo and Laurie had begun the process of teaching each other their most treasured skills. Jo had gone over Laurie’s opera and given him extensive advice on his writing skills, and Laurie had sat Jo down to improve her talents with the piano.

Laurie smirked back, not for the first time that day marveling at how much he loved the woman in front of him. “Don’t work too hard, I wouldn’t want you to upstage me”, he joked.

“Oh, now you’re just provoking me,” Jo teased, giving him one last smile before turning back to the piano, allowing Laurie the moment to slip out of the room and out of the house. It was a terrible plan, but he had to do something. Not only for Amy’s sake, but for the sake of Jo’s happiness, too.

* * *

It did not take long for Laurie to figure out just where Fred Vaughn was staying. There was practically only one decent inn in the entire town, and it made sense for someone of Fred’s rank to prefer the best of the best. Amy had been right before. Fred was even richer than he was. And perhaps that was something the younger March girl valued in a husband. Lord knows the Marches could always use the financial stability.

Though Laurie still could not understand why people married for advantage rather than love, he understood that perhaps he was not in the position to understand it. As Amy had told him all that time ago, he was more privileged, and try as he might, he would never understand the value of a rich partner. Laurie was already rich himself, he did not need his partner to be so, too. And even more than that, he was a man. He was now, more than ever, aware of what that truly entailed. Even when he and Amy would divorce, he would be able to go on with his life, whereas Amy would not. It seemed unfair, nonsensical. But it was the world that they lived in. And if the only thing Laurie could do to help with making the best-case scenario come true was to have a talk with Fred Vaughn, he was going to make it the best conversation of his life.

Laurie knocked on the door of the man’s room, and was met with the vaguely familiar face he had known much better in his youth. As he looked on at Fred Vaughn, he found he felt no more jealousy, no more anger towards this man. All he felt was hope: hope that he would be able to make his wife happy.

“Theodore Laurence,” Fred said, sounding as confused as Laurie would probably have felt in his position. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“May I come in?” Laurie gestured, and gave a quick nod as Fred stepped aside to let him in. The brunette took a glance at the room, noting its extravagance. Somehow, he didn’t fault Fred for it. He felt none of the arrogance he had felt in his youth, when he had scolded Meg for wearing that gown to the ball. He understood now that not everyone saw the world as he did. And it was not his mission to change it. All he could do was try to make the best decisions for himself with the time that he had left.

“I suspect you already know why I’m here,” Laurie turned to Fred, who was still standing by the door, ogling at him.

“Yes,” Fred closed the door, and from that word alone Laurie could tell that Amy had explained the situation to him. If not all of it, then at least the most relevant parts. “I suppose you are here to convince me to reconsider.”

“Reconsider?” Laurie frowned.

Fred nodded. “Did she not tell you?”

“I’ve not spoken to Amy in weeks, Fred.”

The man looked uncomfortable, but cleared his throat, ready to explain. “I told Amy that I would be unable to give her what she wants. It’s too...”, he gestured at Laurie. “You understand.”

“She’s a good person, Fred. She would make a good wife for you,” Laurie understood the irony in him trying to convince another man to marry his wife. What had his life come to? “I assure you, she and I have no plans to continue our marriage.”

“Even so,” Fred said. “It’s... my family would never approve.”

“They do not have to know about Amy’s past,” Laurie said. “I don’t suppose the rumours travelled all the way to London.”

“They would find out somehow.”

“They would not. Not if you made sure they did not,” Laurie insisted. He knew what kind of man Fred was. Stuck in tradition, afraid of taking a risk. This would be a risk. But perhaps, one worth taking. “Is this your only issue, then? Your family?”

Fred gave Laurie a look. “No one wants to be a second choice, Laurence.”

Laurie smiled sadly. It was so close to what Amy had said to him in Europe. She, too, had always felt like the second choice. And she had been. But not to Fred. To Fred, she had always been the first choice. “We all make mistakes. I acknowledge that this mess is entirely my own. I was confused and heartbroken, and dragged Amy into my own melodrama,” he said. “Had I not been there, she would have married you. I suspect she was even looking forward to it.”

“And yet, you were there,” Fred snapped. “And you took her from me. And now!” he scoffed. “Now you change your mind and intend to marry her sister instead? What kind of a man are you?!”

Laurie wasn’t interested in Fred’s judgment, nor did he truly care what the man thought of him. So, he shrugged off the implications and stood up, walking closer. “I made mistakes. I’m making things right now. That includes you and Amy.”

“She does not love me.”

“She could, with time.” It didn’t sound like the stuff of great romance, but deep down Laurie knew that didn’t even matter to Fred. All the man wanted to know was that he could marry Amy, keep his reputation, and not have any trouble from Laurie ever again. “She doesn’t love me anymore, Fred. I do not love her. There is nothing standing in your way.”

“If you were me, would you say yes to this?”

Laurie thought about Jo, and all of the ridiculous antics he had gone through just to be able to be with her, in any shape or form. “Yes,” he said. “If it were the case of being with the woman I love, I would do anything.”

Fred said nothing, but Laurie could sense a change in him. With a nod, he walked to the door, pausing only for one last thing: “I will not tell you what to do. Amy deserves better than to marry a man who was forced to accept her. But I know you still love her. It’s only a question of whether you love her enough,” without another word, and without waiting for a response, he walked out, knowing he had done everything he could. Now it was all up to Fred.

* * *

Once home, Laurie stood in the doorway, watching with a content smile on his face as Jo laid on the couch, a book pressed against her chest as she slept on. It was only about eight o’clock in the evening, but with the girl pulling so many all-nighters to write, she did have a tendency to sleep at strange times. Just another quirk Laurie couldn’t help but love.

Trying his best not to wake her, Laurie walked over to his love and sat next to her, placing her legs on his lap, stroking at her sock-covered feet. He watched her, the varying expressions on her face as she slept on, blissfully unaware of all the drama Laurie had just participated in. This was what Laurie wanted for her. A life of bliss, joy and peace. Yes, they would go on adventures and spend their lives visiting exciting places, but deep down, they would be happy, and would want for nothing. Jo deserved that, after everything she had been through.

“You were gone a while,” Jo murmured, opening her eyes ever so slightly to look on at him. “Is your grandfather alright?”

“He’s fine,” Laurie whispered, keeping his voice low. “I stayed for dinner. Speaking of, have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

Laurie was about to stand up to head for the kitchen when Jo grabbed onto his arm, shaking her head. “No,” she said. “Let’s stay like this for a moment longer, please.”

The boy smiled, nodding as he settled back down, resuming the massaging of Jo’s feet. He watched with slight amusement as Jo tried her best not to groan out loud. She was usually so in control, it was almost magical to see her let loose and just relax.

“So, are you on your way to becoming the best pianist there ever was?” Laurie asked.

“No. It’s not the same without you here,” Jo yawned. “I just read.”

Laurie hummed, closing his eyes. He thought about Fred, and for a brief moment allowed himself to worry about whether he had possibly made things worse rather than better. But then, Jo chuckled, and he was happy again. There would be time for worry later.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like the faces you make when you’re thinking,” Jo said, gazing at him with pure adoration on her freckled face. “Actually, I just like your face in general.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it’s rather fetching.”

Laurie snickered, finally standing up, ignoring the groan from his love. “I am going to make you some dinner.”

“You? Sounds like a disaster.”

“I think I can manage to heat up some soup, thank you very much,” Laurie smirked. “Stay right here. Don’t move.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Jo whispered, a soft smile on her lips.

Laurie watched her, and a sense of calm washed over him, as it often did when Jo was around. Yes. Everything would be alright. As long as they had each other, everything would eventually work out fine. How could it not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone gonna celebrate Halloween this year? If yes, what are you dressing up as? I'm gonna be a pirate. 
> 
> Also, yes, I am aware that this chapter is a bit of a filler chapter. I wanted to deliver at least something, and I just haven't had the time to write a super long, super dramatic chapter. I thought this would be better than nothing.


End file.
